


Just For One Day

by Pitkin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-18 16:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 58,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5934892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pitkin/pseuds/Pitkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She turned down another hall and headed just past the long useless boiler room. Pausing at the next door, Skye waited. She listened to see if she heard any footsteps, waited for any sign that she was being followed. Skye could have her head in the clouds all she wanted, could let her heart beat with anticipation of seeing Jemma with her own eyes, of touching her with her own fingers, of holding onto her for however long they could meet today but she couldn't allow anyone to follow her. She couldn't allow anyone to know about Jemma. They would gladly trade the information to the Peace Council Officers for a few lousy extra rations without a second thought to the fact that their informain would lead to someone else's execution. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-------------<br/>notes: Canon up til the end of the 2nd season finale, excluding monolith abduction as well as the FitzSimmons convo about dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're Late

Skye pulled her numb fingers from the pockets of her leather jacket. It was three sizes too big but it was the warmest layer of clothing she had, despite the bullet holes in the back that had taken down the poor schmuck she had nicked it from after he’d died. She cupped her hands together and brought them to her mouth and nose, blowing on them to try and get some little bit of warmth back into them as she walked. Her long stride was a calculated mid-pace, not too fast, not too slow – casual but also a bit of ‘ _fuck_ it’s freezing!’ mixed in. She carefully weaved through the small smatterings of shuffling crowds when she came across them. Her movement didn’t seem to warm her hands or legs too much but that wasn’t overly surprising to Skye. Temperatures tended to dip below zero at this time of year here after all. 

Skye turned and jogged on numb limbs up the massive stone steps of what used to be a library. Currently it stood in as a market place. It was one of the few places to find warmth in the city since it still had paper to use for kindling in the old empty oil drum fires that warmed small swaths of the open flooring. Jemma would loathe knowing what happened to the knowledge stored within this library if it ever came up in their brief meetings that were always much too short. It wouldn’t have mattered to Jemma that the volumes throughout the library were in languages Skye and most of the people who had been forced into this city’s guarded, walled-in borders couldn’t read. She could almost picture Jemma’s argument in her head, that she would have learned the native language by now so that she could save those noteworthy tomes that held important cultural histories, documentation and invaluable scientific information for survival. She would never accept Skye’s argument that the information she was referring to was freely available in all the libraries left around the world outside of the encampment. The thought and the welcomed mental memory of Jemma’s accented voice brought the right corner of Skye’s mouth turning upward for just a very brief moment. 

Jemma still held hope. It was something Skye wouldn’t take away from her. Jemma needed that hope to keep her brain from breaking down. Skye needed Jemma to have that hope because it meant she was still _her_ Jemma, that she hadn’t been claimed by the realities of their situations. Now that she was inside, Skye’s pace quickened as she moved through the library, her tattered hood was pulled up over the warm knit cap Jemma had left with her during their last meeting, obscuring her face from any curious eyes. Skye did a mental tally. The last time she and Jemma had been able to meet had been…almost six weeks ago. Every time they parted, Skye made sure to hold on for as long as absolutely possible, to say all the things she needed Jemma to know. She assumed every time would be the last time. 

Skye made her way toward the back of the library. She made sure no one was watching or following her before she ducked into the stairwell that led into the basement sub level and let her feet carry her by muscle memory. Down two flights of stairs, in through the access door, down the corridor, past the preservation rooms that had lost power for temperature and moisture controls ages ago. Skye told herself that she would learn enough of the native language (Russian in most cases, so far as she could tell) to browse through those stacks some time so that she could bring Jemma a special book of some kind if she found one, but realistically she knew that would never happen. Perhaps the mere thought of being on her way to meet with Jemma managed to bring back scant glimpses of hope for Skye. They were always fleeting but Skye never failed to notice when they appeared in her mind.

She turned down another hall and headed just past the long useless boiler room. Pausing at the next door, Skye waited. She listened to see if she heard any footsteps, waited for any sign that she was being followed. Skye could have her head in the clouds all she wanted, could let her heart beat with anticipation of seeing Jemma with her own eyes, touching her with her own fingers, holding onto her for however long they could meet today, but she couldn’t allow anyone to follow her. She couldn’t allow anyone to know about Jemma. They would gladly trade the information to the Peace Council Officers for a few lousy extra rations without a second thought to the fact that their information would lead to someone else’s execution. A shiver rolled through Skye at the thought. After a few more calculated minutes of waiting as patiently as she could, Skye made her way through the door as quietly as possible. She shut the door and flipped the lock on the inside of it as soon as she was through. She grabbed the old metal folding chair on the wall next to the door and propped it under the door’s handle as her usual secondary precaution. 

The room she was in held the main area for plumbing for the building. It held a hatch in the far corner that let Skye climb almost two more stories down into the large sewer lines beneath the city. Once her feet hit the stone of the sewer flooring from the ladder, Skye began her usual mental pep talk through the sewer. _Three kilometers until you’re there_ she told herself as she walked along the side of the cavernous underground tube. The smell of some lengths of the sewer could be fairly pungent but at least in the winter it was dampened by the cold despite being slightly warmer than above ground thanks to…actually Skye couldn’t remember the exact scientific, biological whatever reasoning Jemma had given her a number of months ago when she had mentioned it. She had just enjoyed watching Jemma’s face as she got lost in rambling about the nitty gritty bits of science. It had almost - _almost_ reminded her of the way things were before all of this. For just a brief moment, it had been like time travel.

Skye followed a memorized path, counting overhead access points in her head. _At access point twelve, head north_ she told herself, hanging the next right at a cross section of tunnels. She swallowed back the ever present fear in the back of her mind that anyone or anything could be lurking down here any time that she came down and replaced it instead with the image of the bright smile of relief that had filled Jemma’s face the moment she had walked into their meeting place last time. Jemma was more than worth the risk. 

_One and a half kilometers until you’re there_ Skye gave herself the mental note when she spotted a specific obscure marker she had left herself previously. _Halfway home_ she thought to herself. With each step her heart pounded a bit harder in her chest, anticipation and anxiety mixing to work her into a feverish bundle of nervous anxiety. There was always a possibility that Jemma had been the one that had been followed, that Skye might be walking right into a trap that meant certain death. Not once had this stopped Skye from showing up. _Left at the fork, head another half kilometer to the dead end and head up through the access point_ Skye told herself, listening as her feet made a steady, soft rhythm on the stone. She was careful when she made it to the last ladder, to wait and listen once more for the echoing sounds of other footsteps. Satisfied that she was alone, Skye grabbed the ladder and started the two story climb up through the access point. 

This one let her out in the back alley behind an old rundown apartment building that had probably been condemned long before the round up that had forced her and Jemma apart and had condemned Skye to the bleak existence she lived now. Once she reached the top, Skye was careful to watch through the grouping of holes in the middle of the heavy sewer grate to make sure there was no traffic heading in the alley or, hopefully, nearby. With effort she lifted the sewer grate, pausing again to check once more that no one was nearby. She wasn’t surprised to find no one. This part of town was inside a No Man’s Land area. People stayed away from it, unless they were up to something shady. Then again, most of the Peace Council Officers that ventured into this area were up to their own shady business practices and could be bribed.

Skye loathed having to meet Jemma here and always worried that something would happen to her while she was waiting for Skye…but she couldn’t bring herself to insist that they shouldn’t continue to meet, not when this was the one thing left that made Skye want to keep going. The constant hunger pangs, the pain in her bones from the thin material of the restrictive fingerless gloves that had become a locked permanent fixture on her, the damp cold that seeped deep into her bones down to the marrow, the daily dangers that surrounded her from friend and foe alike, the need to constantly be on alert and ready to physically fight for survival…none of it mattered when she was with Jemma. For brief moments, she could give in to the weakness of letting her mind pretend that they were back to what it was like before…before all of this.

Skye pulled herself up and out of the manhole. She climbed to her feet and crouched down after a quick glance around and moved the grate back into place as quietly as possible. Moving to the wall, she leaned back against it and stepped sideways further back into the alley, checking each way. There was no such thing as _too_ cautious. When she was sure no one was tailing her and that she was alone, she ducked in through the door at the end of the wall and shut it behind her to keep the wind out, though the effort was futile considering the state of disrepair the building was in. It didn’t matter. _Almost there_ she told herself, slowly making her way through the building. Their meeting place was on the second floor, down the first corridor on the left, room number 286. 

When she finally reached the door, Skye inhaled a long breath through her nose as quietly as possible and knocked quietly in a very specific pattern. She held that breath as she turned the knob and let herself in. There was always a brief moment of suspended tension after she shut the door and turned around, where she wasn’t sure if it would be Jemma to greet her or Peace Council Officers. Skye pulled her hood back as she turned around. Her eyes locked with the familiar pair of hazel eyes and collectively both of them exhaled the breaths they were holding.

“You’re late.” Jemma accused.


	2. Firewater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all having a good week!!   
> Trying to practice some length restraint with this one compared go UWGT. We'll see how well that lasts!   
> As always, forgive me for my typo sins!!   
> <3 :o)
> 
> \----------------

Skye’s shoulders slumped in a combination of relief and exhaustion. The room was warm. It would be too dangerous to have a fire but Jemma never failed to come prepared with whatever resourceful things she could fit into her backpack. In this case she had a small, but powerful, mobile space heater that Fitz had tinkered with and programmed to last a longer battery life. She wasn’t surprised that Jemma continually found ways to try and make Skye as comfortable as she could during these meetings. She had told Jemma multiple times that it wasn’t necessary, that she didn’t want Jemma to get caught smuggling on top of trying to just cross into forbidden territory. Jemma ignored her insistence every time.

“You’re late,” Jemma accused just as her feet started to carry her straight for the other woman. Before Skye had finished pulling her hood back, Jemma had crossed the room and thrown her arms around her. The last of Skye’s tense muscles melted into relief as she leaned into the warm embrace. She leaned over and buried her face into the crook of Jemma’s neck and wound her arms around Jemma’s middle to squeeze her back in return.

Skye exhaled a shaky sigh and mentally scolded herself when she felt her eyes burn. “Sorry,” she murmured sheepishly against Jemma’s neck and into her hair. Her fingers curled into the material of Jemma’s shirt as if afraid that Jemma might let go too soon. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath through her nose, letting Jemma’s scent fill up her senses. Her lips found Jemma’s shoulder just as Jemma tugged Skye’s knit cap free and kissed her temple. Jemma loosened her grip and started to lean back, but Skye tightened her arms around her reflexively. “Not yet,” she whispered.

Jemma’s minute retreat stalled and she looped her arms back around Skye and held on tight, unconsciously swaying slightly as she stroked her fingers gently through Skye’s hair. She kissed the side of Skye’s head a couple of times. “I love you,” she said. It was only then that the warmth of the room surrounding her finally permeated her chest and slowly started to spread through her, causing tingles through her limbs like pins and needles, as though they were coming awake for the first time after an unbearably long hibernation.

Skye’s fingers curled into the material of Jemma’s shirt tighter still and her arms pulled against Jemma’s back in a fruitless effort to pull the other woman closer even though they were already pressed flush to each other. “I love you,” she murmured before she turned her head and kissed a couple of random spots along Jemma’s neck. “How long do you have?” she asked, her tone quiet as always against Jemma’s ear for this question because whatever answer Jemma gave her was always inadequate; as far as Skye was concerned, any answer that fell short of ‘forever/always’ was really just a nice way of saying ‘not enough.’

Jemma’s hands traveled along her shoulders and came to rest on either side of Skye’s face. She pulled and leaned at the same time until they were face to face. Skye closed her eyes to revel in the touch. Soon enough it would be gone and she would spend countless hours trying to conjure the ghost of this moment never knowing if she would ever feel the gentle touch of Jemma Simmons’ fingertips against her skin again after they parted. Jemma pulled Skye face in and closed the gap between them bringing their mouths together rather than answering the dreaded question.

“Mnnm,” Jemma broke the kiss just a moment later with a grimace at the stinging taste of alcohol it had brought with it. Skye dropped her eyes as Jemma’s fingers retreated from her cheek and covered her mouth a moment. “Firewater...?” She spoke tentatively and Skye could hear the pain Jemma tried to hide as she said it.

Skye cleared her throat gently and kept her eyes focused on Jemma’s collar. She lifted her shoulders in a very slight shrug. “Cold out, had to keep warm,” she said. Jemma was silent, which drew Skye’s guilty eyes up to hers. It was a dirty trick and Skye always fell for it. She immediately felt another stab of guilt when she saw the look in Jemma’s eyes; the pain and helplessness that told her Jemma knew the real truth. _It dulls the pain_ , Skye thought but didn’t dare say. She hated seeing the combo of sorrow and pity in Jemma’s eyes reflected at her. Skye had always hated those looks, the ones the nuns gave her every time she returned after a foster family ‘didn’t work out,’ or when they knew you were homeless. It was almost funny, really, to Skye that she had wound up, essentially, back where she had started. She still had more now than she ever used to back then, though. She had Jemma.

“You know that’s just a myth,” Jemma finally replied. She made a show of shaking her head and rolling her eyes at Skye’s excuse as she reached out to wipe one of many smudges of dirt off of Skye’s cheekbone with her thumb. Skye would never know for sure if Jemma jumped to this reaction instead of continuing to stare at Skye with that pained expression. Skye turned and caught the heel of Jemma’s hand with her lips before she could pull it away.

“Alcohol does nothing to prevent hypothermia. In fact, consumption of it lowers your core temperature. It’s a vasodilator so, as it says in the name, it causes your blood vessels, especially so the capillaries under the surface of your skin, to dilate,” Jemma stepped closer and traced her fingers with the barest touch along the sharp, rawboned curves of her face and the angular curve of her jaw as she rambled. “When they expatiate, the volume of blood they bring to the skin’s surface increases so, on the surface,” she tucked some of Skye’s matted, bedraggled hair behind her ear and then hooked her hand behind Skye’s neck to urge her closer. “You feel warm,” She glanced to Skye’s lips and then let their eyes reconnect, “Normally your body messages through your system when your core temperature is low, which then constrict your blood vessels, thereby minimizing blood flow to the surface of your skin in order to keep your core temperature up instead - protect the organs from shut down, sacrifice the limbs if necessary.” Her fingers danced along the back of Skye’s neck, which sent a pleasant shudder rolling down her spine as Jemma pulled her closer. “So you see, while you _feel_ warmer, it is purely superficial warmth in nature and is entirely adverse to your current situational necessities…” She let the words trail off as she watched Skye’s face.

Skye’s hands reflexively came to rest on Jemma’s waist as she reveled in the warmth Jemma’s embrace and general closeness always caused to well within her. “Simmons...are you flirting with me?” The right corner of Skye’s mouth wound upward and there was almost a glint of the wiley, happy, easily amused old Skye in her eyes as she said it and pulled Jemma closer by her hips.

“Mmmm,” Jemma tilted her head slightly and squinted her eyes in thought. “I might be considering it…” she drew the words out in a slow singsong lilt.

Skye smiled and wound her arms around Jemma’s waist, pulling their lower halves and parts of their torsos flush together as she ducked her head and angled for another kiss. Jemma didn’t pull away this time and instead wound her arms tighter around Skye’s neck to hold on. It was Skye's stomach, this time, which broke them apart as it let out an angry grumble of hunger. Skye mentally cursed her stomach for interrupting the one thing that let her forget, for just a few fleeting moments every few weeks or months, all of the bad shit that she was barely living through. She wouldn't call it living though; it was more like just surviving somehow in the hopes of meetings like this to be with Jemma.

“Come sit down,” Jemma kissed her one last time and then tugged her by the hand toward the small area of old mattress and cushions she had arranged for them in the corner by the small portable heater. “I brought food,” she smiled and squeezed Skye's hand.

After they settled in the cushioned corner by the space heater and Jemma was satisfied that Skye was comfortable, leaning against her side and resting her head on her shoulder, Jemma reached for the strap of her backpack and pulled it over next to her hip on the side Skye wasn’t seated on. Jemma tugged at the zipper of her pack with on hand, unwilling to move her other arm from where it was around Skye. Skye watched, fighting the weary fatigue from the very depths of her bones to keep from falling asleep in the warmth of Jemma’s embrace. From the pack came a black plastic container with a red medical cross on it. Jemma settled it in her lap and flipped the clips open with her free hand. She moved the top layer of medical supplies up and revealed a small stockpile of food.

Skye was quiet against her side. Her eyes welled just a bit, stinging with tears as she thought about the fact that Jemma had to bring her food. Jemma had to bring her food and she packed it in her backpack, knowing if she got caught smuggling it into the pen she would be detained or, worse, possibly executed. Then again, just the act of sneaking herself inside the zone would be cause for putting her on trial for treason. Skye felt a constant tug of war inside herself, between the selfish need for contact with Jemma and the fear for Jemma’s safety in agreeing to let her risk her life for a short couple hour visit every few weeks or months.

Jemma pulled a large aluminum canister out of the box. She snapped the top and peeled some of it back to vent it and then pressed a trigger on the bottom to release the self-heating mechanism on the bottom of the tin. She set that aside on the floor and then reached in and unwrapped the sandwich inside. Skye didn’t need to smell it or look at it to know what it would be. It would be Skye’s favorite sandwich, the one Jemma had made for her countless times before, when she stayed up too long coding, when she came back from a rough mission and needed comfort food, when she was in a mood and had ignored her body’s basic needs. It was alternating layers of swiss cheese, honey ham, provolone cheese and bologna with a layer of avocado smashed and spread in the very middle of the layers, the top and bottom lined with a smashed spread layer of roasted garlic, drizzled on top with just a tiny bit of balsamic vinegar glaze and covered with a generous layer of spinach on the top and bottom to both keep the bread (always rye bread) and ‘to make sure you actually eat some vegetation!’ (as Jemma had always scolded).

Before she picked up a half of the sandwich to hand it to Skye, she opened a small sandwich baggy of cool ranch Doritos, picked up the top slice of rye bread and laid the chips down on it before pressing the slice of bread back down with her palm. Jemma grimaced at the crunching sound. She would never understand why Skye like this monstrosity but the simple little sandwich always made her happy and so Jemma always tried to make sure made one to bring along with her. With a proud little grin she picked up the half of the sandwich, ignoring the rest of the box’s content (which had bags and containers of fruit and raw vegetables in it aside from the sandwich) and held it up for Skye to take.

Skye sniffled. She hadn’t meant to get emotional but after so long of living in the harsh reality of the prison encampment (it wasn’t what it was called, but Skye could consider it nothing but that), the simple sincerity behind Jemma’s care in making sure she brought Skye her favorite sandwich because it was likely one of the few full meals she would get…it just felt overwhelming.

Jemma frowned and squeezed her shoulders. She kissed the top of Skye’s head. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

Skye shook her head and, reluctantly, lifted it off of Jemma’s shoulder. “Nothing,” she whispered and cleared her throat gently. She reached out to take the sandwich half from Jemma and first pulled it up toward her nose to inhale the scent of it. She took a bite of the sandwich as her stomach grumbled again and exhaled a small sigh as the varying flavors danced over her taste buds. “Thank you…” She said around the food as she chewed. Jemma combed her fingers through Skye’s hair after setting the open box on the floor in front of them.

“You’re welcome,” Jemma said, rather than saying that Skye didn’t need to thank her and getting into a cyclical argument about it again. “I have some other things for you too, but they can wait until you’ve got something in your belly,” She kissed the top of Skye’s head again as Skye brought it to rest against her shoulder once more while she tried to eat at a normal, slow, pace instead of scarfing everything possible down and making herself sick.

“I don’t deserve you,” Skye murmured around her food.

“That’s a terrible fib and you know it,” Jemma replied. “And it won’t stop me from making you eat the fruit and veggies I brought with me too,” she added.

Skye exhaled a short snort of laughter. “I love you,” She said.

Jemma pressed her hand firmly as she stroked it up and down along Skye’s tense back muscles. “I love you too,” She replied. They both knew she didn’t have to. She proved it every time she broke laws and risked her life to come meet Skye, to feed her, to give her things she needed to survive.

They were relatively silent while Jemma continued to make sure Skye ate until she was full. The contents of the box didn’t last. She ate the whole sandwich, the apple and banana, the walnuts, the can of soup and the carrots Jemma had stowed in the box. She almost couldn’t get enough of the water Jemma handed her either. Clean water that didn’t taste like sludge even after it was boiled or ‘purified,’ was a scarce commodity in the zone. Skye’s stomach felt almost bloated she was so full by the end of it. Food, fresh water, warmth and Jemma; Skye’s contentment left her eyelids drooping, attempting to pull her into sleep. She fought off the drowsiness. She didn’t want to waste time sleeping when Jemma was here.

Jemma cleared away the food leftovers. She turned to Skye and spotted her tired eyes but just as she was about to suggest that Skye take a nap, the gaunt woman leaned over and brought their mouths together. It was a relief to not have Skye taste like the wretched firewater burning alcohol substitute that made its way around the zone illegally. Jemma leaned into the kiss as she lay back against the mattress and cushions with Skye. Skye’s hands were lazy and fumbling as she tried to get them under Jemma’s shirt while she kissed her way down Jemma’s jaw and to her neck. “Skye,” Jemma murmured breathlessly, “Wait,” she put her hand on Skye’s wrist and stopped a moment, frowning as she felt the material around Skye’s hands and wrists.

Skye paused. She pressed her face into Jemma’s neck and sighed as Jemma’s fingers roamed over the long gloves. They were fingerless and went up to just below Skye’s elbow. Jemma had made the original prototypes for these gloves. She had been attempting to help keep Skye’s powers from hurting her as Skye tried to learn how to control them. It hadn’t quite worked out the way she planned and later they had been used forcefully against Skye to keep her from being able to defend herself during the battle between the Inhumans and Shield. Now, her original plans had been modified. Sewn into the gloves were thin titanium ring bands, one around the wrist area, and one around the top of the glove by Skye’s elbows. Once they had been forced on her after she had been rounded up with the others, they had been programmed into place. The only way to remove them was controlled by the guards in the high perimeter towers. No one ever had theirs removed yet in the last four years. Those who didn’t have a power that could be controlled through something like the gloves were given shots and forced medication daily. Failure to comply meant death.

Skye winced as Jemma’s fingers traced the metal ring over her right wrist. An attempt to struggle free from them in one of Skye’s darker moments – she still wasn’t sure if she was trying to catch the guards’ attention so that they would just do away with her finally, or not – had caused the bands to tighten. For the last two weeks, the circulation in her fingers had been sluggish and painful and her wrists were sore, no doubt covered in welts and possibly infected from the way they dug in.

Jemma frowned and moved to sit back up. “Do they hurt?” She asked, her fingers now probing against Skye’s hand, wrist and forearms around the rings.

Skye sighed. “They always hurt, Jem,” she admitted. The gloves kept her power bottle up. While that didn’t usually injure her anymore the way that it used to, by fracturing her bones, the pain of pressure from the built up emotions that she could never release, that would linger with her forever so long as these were attached to her. Jemma’s frown deepened. Skye sighed. “They’re alright,” she lied, reaching to frame Jemma’s face with her hands. Jemma never missed the full feel of Skye’s palms than in that very moment. Skye closed the distance between them and kissed her again. Jemma’s hands came up to rest on the outsides of Skye’s, but slipped as they started to lean back and Skye broke the kiss with a hiss as her fingers landed on a particularly sore spot on her wrist.

Jemma frowned and turned for her bag as Skye tried to insist it was nothing. “Give me your hands,” she ordered.

“Jem,” Skye sighed. “It’s not going to work. I’ve tried everything to get them off-,”

“Give me your hands,” Jemma ordered again. “I promise it won’t destroy them so we can put them back on, they’ll never know.”

Skye was anxious as she reached her hands out to Jemma. Jemma took her right hand first. She had a tool in her hand that looks like something similar, but more intricate, to a pair of needle nose pliers. The interior part of the pliers that met when the handles were squeezed had some form of electricity running through them and lit up when Jemma flipped a lever on the side of the handle. Jemma had a pair of the pliers in each hand. She flipped the lever of the other one on and then told Skye to roll her sleeve up. Skye pushed her sleeve up past her elbow and Jemma angled the plies, on over the wrist ring and one over the forearm one. She used the pliers to grip the rings simultaneously and Skye shuddered as she felt the shock of pain that rolled through her arm for a brief instant as she clenched her eyes shut.

Jemma put the pliers down in her lap and immediately reached for the glove. The rings had popped loose to their original opening setting and Jemma was quick – but careful – to pull it free. Beneath the material, there were angry red rings around Skye’s upper forearm and her wrist. The one around her wrist definitely had a cut that had been infected on it but it didn’t appear that the infection had spread anywhere but the cut area yet. The rest of her arm between the rings looked almost purple from the way her circulation had been affected. “Oh, Skye…” Jemma breathed, aghast as her fingers reached for, but stalled before she could touch the glaring inflamed wounds.

Skye flexed her hand. She had almost forgotten what it felt like, for open air to touch the skin beneath the restricting gloves. She grimaced when she rolled her wrist and exhaled a shaky breath. Her eyes lifted from her wrist to Jemma’s and she frowned when she saw the tears welling in Jemma’s eyes. Skye licked her lips and raised her other hand. “C-Can…w-would you, um…this one?” She asked tentatively. “J-Just for a little while?”

Jemma nodded quickly. “Of course,” She said. “Of course, yes,” She picked the pliers as she sniffled while Skye rolled up her other sleeve. After a moment of lining them up, she did the same thing for each ring and released them from Skye’s arm before dropping the pliers and gently pulling the material free.

Skye looked down at her hands, turning them over in front of her as she flexed or rolled her wrists, flinching when she turned her hands or arms certain ways. She stared at her hands in wonder for a moment. Her palms itched with the freedom, wanting to release and swirl their control over the vibrations that surrounded them in the world. A dark thought crossed her mind, that maybe Jemma could leave them off. Maybe she could wreak some havoc before they managed to execute her. Jemma sniffled and ducked her eyes when Skye looked at her. Without much thought, Skye reached out and framed Jemma’s face with her hands again. She exhaled another shaky breath as the warmth from Jemma’s skin invaded the cool flesh of her palms and fingers. Her thumbs swiped gently over Jemma’s cheekbones to wipe at some of the stray tears that fell from her eyes as Jemma closed her eyes and exhaled a slow breath.

Skye leaned over and kissed her. She pressed their foreheads together. “Thank you,” she whispered. She captured Jemma’s mouth again before Jemma could attempt to apologize. She would have happily drowned in Jemma’s kiss if Jemma’s sensible side hadn’t returned.

Jemma broke the kiss and took a steadying breath. “I want to treat those wounds,” she turned to her bag to grab her actual medical kit. “Before the infection spreads,” she said. Skye acquiesced to the request with a small nod. She flinched a few times as Jemma worked on her wrists mostly. She cleaned the wounds and, one of them at least, she used a syringe to drain some puss from it while Skye bit deep into her lip to keep from shouting at the pain. After she had finished, she carefully wrapped Skye’s wrists in gauze, making sure it was secure but not overly tight. “This should provide some cushioning once they’re back on,” Jemma said with a frown. She hated that she would have to put the devices back onto Skye, but she was determined to make sure that they were removable if Skye needed to. “I’ll send antibiotics with you for the infection and fresh gauze to change it.” She promised.

Skye chuckled. “Jem, there’s no way I’ll be able to remove and redo bandaging,” she grinned and then cleared her throat. She reached out again to trace the side of Jemma’s face as she sighed. “It’s nice to feel you again,” she wanted to memorize the sensation as much as possible, to add it to her daydream collection, the one that she used to get through the harshest nights.

Jemma leaned her face into the touch and sighed. Skye’s forehead pressed to hers again as Jemma reached up to frame Skye’s face with her hands. She opened her eyes and let them meet Skye’s. “You don’t think I’m putting those things back on you in working order, do you?” she asked.

Skye blinked. “…What?” She asked as her brow furrowed against Jemma’s.

“I’ll explain later,” Jemma couldn’t handle the small bit of distance between them anymore. She had forced her will power to hold out, to make sure Skye was fed and had a chance to rest and warm up in the heat of the room. She pushed the supplies off to the side and then reached for Skye’s face again, pulling her to her and devouring her mouth in a needy kiss, pulling them back down against the cushions. Skye wasn’t about to argue. She needed the touch, the closeness. She needed everything Jemma had to offer her right then.

It took some time to get their clothes off. Actually, it took some time to get Skye’s clothes off from the various bedraggled layers of clothing she wore in an attempt to keep warm in the harsh frozen winter temperatures. Jemma knew Skye would be gaunt, but she was shocked to see, now that they layers were gone, how much weight Skye had lost since the last time she had been here. Jemma’s hands stroked tenderly along the front of her torso, against the thin skin that was taut over what was left of the muscles Skye tried to keep in shape and ready for battle. Her stomach was swollen more than usual because of the food. Jemma wanted to cry again as her eyes took the sight of her in and Skye squirmed under her gaze.

“Hey,” Skye whispered. She nudged the end of her nose against Jemma’s until Jemma lifted her eyes to look at her. Skye’s fingers traced her jaw and tangled into her hair. “Stay here with me,” she pled. She knew Jemma felt guilty that she was stuck here, wasting away, trying just to hang on as best as she could. Jemma was the only reason that Skye hadn’t given in and let herself go, like she had seen so many others do. “I’m alright,” she promised and, in this moment, it was true. She was full. She was warm. She needed the touch, the contact, the feeling of being completely engulfed by and surrendering to in the all-encompassing fire of their love – the one thing that left her holding onto her last vestiges of her self-awareness, of her humanity. Jemma was the only tether that kept her sane, somehow, in this mess. “I love you, Jem,” Skye whispered. “I need you,” she confessed, unabashed to say it.

Jemma’s lips found hers just as the last words had passed them. Though she was careful not to hurt Skye, Jemma also gave in to the desire, to the burning fire that kindled in her belly at Skye’s touch, the longing to take away the pain Skye was in and replace it with pleasure, with passion and with unyielding love as if it would be enough to shield her until she could make another trip inside to meet with her. They wound themselves around each other, all fire, flesh, sweat, sinew, tongue and teeth grinding, probing, winding and crashing together, unwilling to give into exhaustion as they circled around again and again until Skye’s fatigued could no longer be held at bay.

Jemma covered them over with a thick blanket, tucking Skye into her arms. Skye’s face pressed into her collar and shoulder. She left a few stray kisses against Jemma’s neck as Jemma stroked her arm, her back, her shoulders, combed her fingers through Skye’s hair and ever so slightly – just enough that Skye noticed it – rocked with Skye in her arms.

“Jem…” Skye whispered tiredly.

“Shhh,” Jemma kissed her temple. “Go to sleep,” She insisted.

Skye hated this idea. She didn’t want to fall asleep and wake up to a note that Jemma had to leave. She shook her head. “No,” she murmured stubbornly. “I don’t want-,”

“I’ve got time,” Jemma promised. She kissed her temple again and pulled Skye closer, entangling their legs and holding on tight. “Sleep,” she ordered. “I’ll wake you up when I have to,” She promised. “I love you.”

Skye couldn’t fight it. Between her general weakness from the cold and the daily struggle, to the sated but completely worn out muscles, she just couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. Her muscles released their tension as she closed her eyes and melded into Jemma’s arms, fitting perfectly against her body in a way no partner ever had for Jemma. Jemma gently rocked with her, stroking her skin, combing her hair, kissing her temple, lulling her into a deep and restful sleep.


	3. Together or Not At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a few quick notes:
> 
> I’m gonna go ahead and dedicate this particular chapter to the fact that I am dying to read an update on _What The Water Gave Me_ from happypugfics….seriously, it’s killing me!!! AHHHH! Ahem…but also I hope you enjoy it and that it explains a little detail for you on how it came to secret meetings.
> 
> I’m not going to give these a fluff or adrenaline rating since I don’t think either of those scales applies here necessarily. Please always feel free to drop a line to say hello, ask a question or tell me what you think! :o)
> 
> On that note, carry on! I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!! <3
> 
> \------------

Jemma’s watch was set to alert her when she had exactly two hours before she was supposed to leave so she could make her way back from the zone into the border territories so she could hit the checkpoint and head back to the lab. She spent the almost three hours until that point holding onto Skye, combing her fingers soothingly through Skye’s matted, grimy hair, letting the pads of her fingers trace the gaunt hollows of Skye’s face, pressing her hands along the knotted muscles of Skye’s back, soothing over the last remnants of yellowish/green healing bruises she wasn’t even sure how Skye had earned. While she let her thoughts roam on memories of the old Skye and the way she always had a witty little snark-filled comment on the tip of her tongue even in the most dire of situations. She studied this Skye and noted the way her face relaxed whenever she nuzzled into Jemma or the way her body softened and melded closer against her when Skye inhaled a deep breath and caught Jemma’s scent on the air.

In the brief moments when she closed her eyes here and there, Jemma thought back to how it used to be, before all of this had happened, before they had been separated by the wall and relegated to different zones. She heard Skye’s soft hum and felt the warm exhale that followed it against her collar. She felt the way Skye’s arms encircled her tighter when her body shifted and the pain from a bruise tried to pull her from the bliss of sleeping curled up against Jemma. She drew her hand over Skye’s hair, cradled the back of her head gently and kissed the spot just above her ear before murmuring sweet reassurances in Skye’s ear, coaxing her properly back into restful sleep.

It hadn’t always been this way. When the zone was first opened, families could visit their Inhuman relatives with day, weekend, weekly, monthly passes even. They couldn’t permanently stay, unfortunately - which should have been a bigger red flag for Jemma – unless, of course, one knew the right people to cut through the governmental red tape. The whole thing had been one giant red flag. It had started as a list, thanks to the Sokovia Accords designed to prevent The Avengers or any other ‘enhanced individuals’ from being able to cross international borders or from being able to act without pre-approval from a government. It also laid out specific criminal punishment for any of those enhanced individuals who took any kind of action or used their powers without proper authorization or who refused to sign away their rights. Out of 193 countries, 117 of them had signed the accords. Jemma had found Skye, less than an hour after the accords had been signed, memorizing a list of those who had not ratified it so that she could check and keep track of any and all safe houses the team had in those countries, just in case.

At the time, Jemma had tried to reassure Skye that Coulson would never let her wind up on a list like that, especially so not after the index had been used against them in the past. She had come to regret her foolishly naïve stance in the initial wave of regulations. Maybe if she had been on board and behind Skye one hundred percent initially, Skye wouldn’t have been in here when the incident happened and they could have possibly been in one of the safe haven countries. But hindsight was twenty-twenty, and things hadn’t worked out that way.

Skye wasn’t originally supposed to even  _ be _ in the zone. She had gone in at Coulson and May’s behest with a team of Inhumans. They were to keep watch over the goings on inside, make sure the rules that the involved UN countries had set forth when they had enacted what became known as the Sovereign Inhuman Nationals Suffrage Initiative. Even more countries than those that had signed the Sokovia Accords had signed off on the SINS Initiative. That had been four years ago. Jemma remembered long nights debating with Skye, trying to convince her that it weren’t necessarily a bad thing. It was a purely voluntary initiative back then. The facility had yet to be built, even. Jemma had insisted that selecting an area and building the necessary surrounding infrastructure and security would take quite a bit of time and that would give them time to figure out how to reverse the legislation.

The zone, as it was simply referred to now, was located in what used to be the city of Minsk in Belarus. Because the Initiative had been fast tracked and, because there was funding behind it from so many countries, it had only taken a year to not only relocate the just under two million residents from the roughly 409 square kilometer city (some of them forcefully per some underground news sites Skye had found), but to surround the city with walled fortification that used the circular Minsk Beltway as a guide for its borders. No expense was spared. The buildings within the city were converted and low scale renovated but hardly anything was razed to create new buildings. The walls were fifty feet tall, had guard towers built every so many meters and had protected walkways on top of the walls between them. There were countless amounts of high tech security measure installed both on the walls and throughout the city. Skye had grown increasingly anxious every day that there was a new report on the construction or the initiative.

Jemma had naively insisted that Coulson (and the rest of the team, Jemma included) would never allow Skye to be forced into a pen if she didn’t voluntarily want to go there.

The clear and invisible domed enclosure that had been placed around the area 10 meters outside of the fortified walls had been the first red flag that had made fear tingle through Jemma. They had seen this tech before, at Quinn’s compound. Hell, they had  _ used  _ it to hold Ward in the basement of the playground and…had also used it to protect Skye after the temple incident. If people were voluntarily going into the zone, the dome was superfluous – hell, the  _ walls _ were superfluous! Jemma had stopped arguing with Skye as much when she voiced her concerns after that. She had kept her ears open and she spoke with Skye about things privately after they ensured there’d be no way anyone, even Coulson and the team, could hear them.

Fourteen months after the signatures had been placed on the initiative, Minsk was now the touted Inhuman safe zone. With a stunning level of speed, countries immediately started sending planes and trains full of Inhumans with their belongings into the zones. Some of them went along with their very human families because of their ages (Guardians for those under eighteen), even, or just so they could be together (provided they had been given approval to relocate into the zone by their local government officials). Three months after that, Coulson had called Skye into his office. He and May had a mission for Skye, Lincoln and Alisha. They were to go in undercover as voluntary Inhuman migrants. They were to go about their business with their assigned jobs and keep their eyes open collecting information – Was the Peace Council keeping up on its promises? Were the Inhumans inside the zone safe? Were their needs being met? Were they happy? And so on.

Jemma had panicked when Skye had told her while she had moved around their room, packing her things. Jemma had begun packing her own suitcase almost instantly, insisting that wherever Skye went, she was going too. They had fought then, for almost three hours, shouting at each other, crying. Skye refused to let Jemma join her and Jemma was so panicked by the idea that she only mildly understood why. Skye had told her then, through the din of music she had turned on after setting her tablet’s audio scrambler program on to scramble any kind of bug that might be in their room somehow. Jemma closed her eyes as the memory took over her mind for the moment.

_ "You can't expect me to just let you leave, Skye!" Jemma couldn't stop the stray tears from soaking her cheeks. This felt very final and Jemma couldn't accept that. She couldn't just let Skye walk away from her because of some insane mission, could she? Was it hypocritical to think that way, after Jemma had done the same to infiltrate Hydra in the past? She hadn't even told anyone the real reason she left back then, though that had been part of the mission orders. _

_Skye stopped her packing and turned to look at Jemma. Her own eyes were full of saline that she was fighting very hard to hold at bay. She wanted to tell Jemma that she could come too, that they would just be making a move to a new place together, but she couldn't. This was not a joke. This wasn't a game. This was real life. This was history making its slow cyclical burn to repeat humanity's eighty year-old mistakes because they had failed to learn their proper lessons. The idea that Jemma thought that this was Skye_ _leaving her struck a number of painful chords deep within Skye’s gut. Her eyes locked with Jemma’s for a brief moment, a short lived staring contest._

_ In the next moment, Skye crossed the room, framing Jemma’s face with her hands and pulled her in for a long kiss, as if she might be able to transfer all of her deepest, intensely fierce feelings, every single one she held for Jemma, through their mouths alone. Jemma’s hands flew around her and gripped handfuls of the back of her shirt as she feverishly returned the kiss, lips, teeth and tongue moving as if to make her case, insistent that they shouldn’t separate – they needed to stay together. _

_ Both of them were breathless, foreheads pressed together, blowing staggered puffs of hot air against each other’s cheeks. “Jems,” Skye said between gulps of air. When Jemma’s frightened gaze met hers, “I am not leaving you,” She said. This was a mission. She knew she had to do it. She knew why Coulson picked her for it. She knew he felt reluctant about it. May hadn’t seemed as reluctant as Coulson to send her, but all the same, Skye knew it was something she couldn’t turn down. It was the job. They both knew how this worked. Still, the idea that Jemma could even think for a second that Skye wanted to or would leave her…it hurt in way Skye couldn’t quite explain. _

_ “But you are,” Jemma whispered. Her hands came to rest against the front of Skye’s collar and chest as Skye’s arms moved around her waist to pull her closer. _

_ “I don’t like the mission any more than you do,” Skye whispered. She kissed Jemma’s forehead before Jemma ducked her head and nuzzled into the crook of Skye’s neck. “I have orders…” _

_ “Please take me with you,” Jemma made her final plea, sliding her arms around Skye’s middle under her arms as they tried to hold Jemma as close as possible. _

_ “Jem, I love you,” Skye murmured against Jemma’s hair after kissing the side of her head. “This is a mission, Jems. This is not me leaving you. You know I would never do that, right?” _

_ Jemma sniffled against her shoulder but nodded. “I know,” she murmured. _

_ Skye kissed the side of her head again. “We’re gonna be okay, Jems,” she said. “Coulson will set me up with travel passes so I can come back to update him and see you. It’s just a precautionary measure to keep the task force in line. This is only temporary, Jems,” Skye had said the words to comfort them both, but each of them was tense and Jemma knew she wasn’t the only one who was scared. _

_ Jemma sniffled. “I’m holding you to that,” She said firmly. _

_ Skye chuckled. “I’d expect nothing less,” she kissed the side of Jemma’s head once more. “Now help me pack so we can clear the bed and throw me a temporarily-going-away- party,” She joked as she gave Jemma a firm squeeze around the shoulders. _

Skye had spent a year and a half inside the zone, or SIN City, or any other number of silly and/or derogatory nicknames there had been for the place. Skye gave Coulson steady reports. Jemma arranged trips inside to stay, but Skye refused to ever let her stay longer than a day pass. The last few months before the incident, Jemma had noticed some marked changes in Skye. While inside the zone, all Inhumans had to keep to a very particular schedule for visits to specialist doctors in various genetic research fields. Numerous times, Jemma had fought to be assigned to one of the research teams. Even Coulson couldn’t tell her why she had received continued rejections when her qualifications beat nearly 96.832% (she had calculated) of the scientists already on the teams. That should have been another, bigger, red flag for her than it was, looking back in 20/20 hindsight.

The last visit Skye had with Jemma before the incident, Skye had seemed extremely edgy. She had insisted she was fine every time that Jemma had asked about it, but when they were parting ways at the designated checkpoint, Skye had pulled her into a rather passionately embraced kiss. It hadn’t been until after she had met up with Bobbi, who had come to pick her up, that she had realized that Skye had slipped micro SD card into her back pocket. When she had put it into Skye’s laptop, the autorun program on the chip brought up a series of rather detailed, and intimate, questions for her to answer before it had finally let her run her finger over the biometric scanner lock on the computer so that it could recognize her. When all that was said and done, the program had unlocked the files. Jemma had clicked on one titled ‘OPEN IMMEDIATELY’ first. When she did a number of things had begun to happen on the computer screen, Jemma had no idea what, but they seemed like things Skye would bring up and look at. Jemma used to make jokes about the Matrix while Skye was working through code-related things.

After the windows did their thing, whatever it was, the computer opened up the next file folder itself. Inside there was a locked file and a video. Jemma had no clues for the password on the file, so she had grabbed her headphones, plugged them into the laptop and opened up the video.

_ Jemma’s eyes locked onto the computer screen when Skye suddenly appeared. Jemma had no idea where Skye was filming this but it looked like a closet or a basement of some kind - somewhere dark and damp from what she could see. _

_ “Hey, Jems,” Skye’s smile was severely tiny and forced and it immediately made Jemma tense. There was fear in her eyes as she looked around wherever she was, as if checking for intruders or recording equipment. Jemma had no doubt that, wherever she was, Skye had her scramblers set to keep from being able to pick up what she was saying, all but the device she was using to record it. “Looks like you’ve made it through the encryption maze I left for you. I locked it to both the multi-question process and the coordinates of my bed,” Skye went on. This time her smile, though still tiny, was just a little bit more genuine. “I wish I could be there with you.” The sadness, then, in Skye’s eyes seemed to grow and Jemma felt her absence immensely in that moment. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around Skye and tell her that everything would be alright. _

_ “I’m sorry if our last visit was weird. I don’t have much time to explain. I’m sorry. The files that are in the folder with this video need to go to Coulson as soon you find this. Just take the whole computer to him. He’ll need it in his office to unlock it. Tell him that he already knows the password he needs to get in. He’ll know what you’re talking about, I promise. I need you to keep May busy after you deliver it to Coulson. No one else can know, Jems, okay? It’s really important, alright?” Skye’s eyes went from darting around the space around her to staring directly into the camera as if she wanted to stare into Jemma’s soul through it. “I wouldn’t trust this to anyone but you.” Skye paused for a few moments and Jemma watched as her eyes filled a bit. She exhaled a slow breath, the way Jemma knew she always did when she was controlling her emotions to keep from setting them free, to avoid actually crying. “I know I promised this was temporary, Jem, but, I don’t, um…” Skye sniffled and dropped her eyes. “Shit,” the video moved off of her for a moment as she murmured it and wiped at her face. _

_ Jemma ducked and moved but obviously she couldn’t make the camera move so she could see Skye again. She was relieved when the video feed returned to Skye’s face, even though she knew that Skye had filmed this before Jemma’s visit. “I don’t know when the next time I’ll see you again is, Jems. Please don’t try and set up a meeting. Coulson’s going to have instructions to deny your passes if you do. It’s not...i-it’s not because I don’t want you with me or...o-or that I’m trying to leave you, so please don’t think that,” Skye’s watery eyes stared through the camera at her. “This is the only way I know how to keep you safe, Jems. You’ve been denied your applications to those research teams because they knew you’d blow the whistle on them. They’re working on injections and drugs to turn us back, Jem. I know that sounds...like a good thing, like people could choose to just go back to being normal humans and this whole place will shut the hell down, but,” Skye shook her head and dropped her face a moment to wipe her cheeks. _

_ When she looked at the camera again, her fear was palpable to the point that Jemma felt it clenching at her heart and her own gut. She watched, paying attention to everything she could see of Skye, every movement, every look in her eye, every twitch of her face. _

_ “The drugs they’ve been dosing us with each week are meant to weaken the abilities. They’re using the technology you developed in your gloves to make braces for everyone they can apply it to, to force them into wearing them,” she said. “Resistance is met with extra dosing through injections. They’re randomly testing the reversal drugs on Inhumans in here, Jem,” Skye’s eyes stared into the camera. “Every visit to the researchers is a chance to be dosed with it. We swiped one of the samples. The data for the analysis Lincoln did is in the files for Coulson. I told him you would need to see them to go over them,” Skye cleared her throat. It was clear that Skye’s thoughts seemed disjointed. She was genuinely scared and it was also clear that she was under the impression that she was being followed as well. “There’s no way for them to make it work, Jem. Once the transition is complete, it can’t be reversed and attempts to do so…” Skye’s eyes dropped away for a moment. When they came back, Jemma held her breath. _

_ “Every Inhuman they inject with it will die,” Skye whispered. “Word’s been spreading about it, rumors mostly. Most of them aren’t accurate but I can’t correct them yet without giving myself away and I think that’s why the rumors are being spread. I think the Peace Council’s spreading them to rile up the population in here. At some point, there’s going to be an uprising or a riot or...when it happens, this place will go into lockdown. I think that’s what they want. I think it’s what they’ve always wanted. They just needed time for momentum to build. I don’t want you in here when that happens, Jem. I’m going to try to get out with Lincoln and Alisha before it happens, but…” _

_ Skye sniffled once more and then locked her eyes on the camera again. “I love you, Jems. You are the most important person in my life and I’m sorry that I might not be able to keep my original promise of this being temporary so I can come back to you. I will fight like hell to get back to you, that much is a promise I can keep. I can’t do what I have to do in here without knowing that you’re safe out there. That’s why I’m doing this. That’s why I needed you to know all of this. Take this to Coulson and I’m sure he’ll give you orders based off of what he finds. Only trust who Coulson decides to trust after he’s looked the files through. Take care of yourself for me...okay? I love you, Jemma.” _

_ In the background of the video, Skye heard something and looked away. A moment later, the camera feed cut away and Jemma let out a sob as her hand flew to the screen as if it could somehow bring Skye back to it. Folding the laptop closed, Jemma tucked it tightly into her arms and ran through the base. Ignoring everyone calling out to ask if she was okay on her way, she rushed into Coulson’s office, relieved to find him alone and immediately told him she needed to speak to him - alone. _

Jemma’s watch beeped.

The sound signaled that she had exactly two hours to go before she had to be on her way back out of the zone. Even though she didn’t want Skye to sleep through their two hours’ worth of time together, Jemma was reluctant to wake her up since she was resting so peacefully at the moment. Regardless of what Skye would have insisted about being okay or about how she got enough sleep on her own, Jemma knew it wasn’t true. She knew this would likely be the most relaxed sleep, curled up and (relatively) safe with Jemma, with a full belly and tucked under covers in a properly heated room that Skye would get to have until whenever the next time Jemma could meet with her would be. Jemma had to be careful to stagger the visits, to keep from raising any red flags or suspicions on her leave absences.

Bobbi was the only one from the team that positively knew about her meetings with Skye. Fitz…well Fitz technically knew, but Jemma had never officially told him about it in any capacity. He preferred it that way since he could claim ignorance if it came down to needing to do so. Bobbi, though, Jemma trusted Bobbi. Bobbi had figured it out before without being told, when Jemma was making it too obvious. Rather than confronting her, Bobbi had slipped Jemma a note among the hidden spot she kept the items she was going to bring Skye during one of her trips. Jemma had been sure she was a goner when she had found it. She had been afraid to follow Bobbi’s tips, worrying that they would lead her into a trap. She had doubled back multiple times the next time she had gone to sneak into the zone. Skye had bitten her nails down to bloody cuticles by the time she had arrived almost two hour late and had buried a sob of relief into Jemma’s neck as soon as her arms were around Jemma, having thought the worst. Ever since then, each and every time she came to meet with her, Skye had tried to talk Jemma out of ever coming back to meet with her again.

Within days of giving Coulson the files Skye had slipped to her, while she, Coulson, Bobbi, Lance and Fitz had tried to rush through organizing a way to get in and help Skye defend the Inhumans inside the zone – both tactically and through PR they tried spreading through various media channels – the riot/uprising Skye had suggested might happen, began after a fourteen year old boy had been subjected to the alleged ‘cure’ injection in front of his father while they held him with chains utilizing Jemma’s tech from the original gloves she had given Skye and while jabbing him with spears akin to supercharged cattle prods designed to use his specific power against him to weaken him further than whatever medications they had probably already pumped him full of.

Still, watching his teenaged son be murdered right in front of him, even as Skye, Alisha and Lincoln tried to intervene before the injection happened, those stop gap measures hadn’t been enough to stop the man from breaking free of the chains and using his given abilities to get to his son. Popular media outlets were used by governments around the world to showcase the clips of the Inhumans attacking the peace council guards. Coulson had managed, with help from Myles and his new crew, to get some of the actual footage of what prompted the fight out there on the web to try and send it viral, so people would see the ruse for what it was in reality. The initial battle turned into the Peace Council trying to apprehend Skye, Lincoln and the unknown man, who had fought off waves of the PC Guards while holding his son against his chest on the ground and sobbing. It had been heartbreaking. It also hadn’t taken long for the violence to spread. Even with medically dampened abilities, the Peace Council soldiers were no real match for the Inhumans. At first.

The Blitz had come during the fighting; an aerosol that was, more or less, crop dusted over the zone. The Peace Council guards were unaffected thanks to the breathers in their uniform masks. Some of the Inhumans had managed to slip underground into the sewers to get away from the immediate effect of the aerosol, which rendered anyone who breathed it in unconscious within ninety seconds of the initial inhalation. Skye and Alisha had made it into the sewers and had made it to a far corner of the town where they had had some tactical gear stashed. Luckily they had managed to get there before the aerosol had gotten them. Lockdown was initiated immediately before the aerosol had been released.

Jemma tried not to think about the immediate weeks after the Blitz. It was too painful to let her mind go there. She needed to be strong while she was here with Skye and that’s what she was determined to do right up until the day she could get Skye out of this hell hole and burn the place down behind them. Whatever it took, Jemma was determined to make it happen somehow.

It had been one year, four months and thirteen days since the Lockdown Blitz. SIN city had fallen into exactly the kind of decay one would have expected of a war torn city. Destruction happened frequently. There was no upkeep of buildings. Few parts of town had any kind of power for heart or electricity. The water…Jemma didn’t even want to think about the cesspool of bacteria and parasites that were surely living in it. Jemma always made sure to bring as many water purifying tablets as she thought she could safely hide (in the event that she was ever caught). Knowing Skye, she probably gave more of them out to others rather than hoarding them for her, so Jemma tried to keep Skye stocked up. Had the situation not been so serious, it was possible she would have compared the decay of the zone to something out of an apocalyptic dystopian novel. On top of the rapid decay, the Peace Council chairman had begun putting punishments in place to cut the inhabitants of the zone off from needed resources other than the basics of water and heat to prevent people from freezing to death in the cold winter nights. Food was initially rationed and then rationed again to downsize supplies and then rationed a third time. Starvation and dehydration made a slow burn through SIN City, coupled with rampant disease – outbreaks of easily curable ailments that went ignored by the Peace Council. There was always a last minute mercy drop of supplies that were dropped in armored crates into random parts of the zone. Each drop usually resulted in at least three deaths by trampling or crushing alone.

Peace Council members routinely kidnapped Inhumans from the zone to experiment on them. Some were thrown back into the streets days or even weeks later. Some of them made it after that, some didn’t. Some of them never came back at all. Skye had been forced into the gauntlets to prohibit her powers. At first they hadn’t been able to safely securely fasten them to Skye so she was forced to take medication daily to dull her abilities. Skye was fine with that because she knew the tricks to get out of actually swallowing the pills and, for some reason Jemma would never know but would be thankful for, Skye hadn’t been kidnapped by the Peace Council. Well, that wasn’t totally true either. A number of times they had attempted to take her. They had not succeeded once and the only reason Skye thought she was alive was because they needed her for something. Neither Skye nor Jemma had figured out exactly what that something could be, yet.

“Skye,” Jemma’s movements were slow, calm and careful as she spoke softly to coax Skye from her slumber. She combed through Skye’s hair and ran her hand along Skye’s arm and back in gentle caresses and shook her ever so slightly to rouse her.

Skye let out a hum that morphed into a groan. “Just five more minutes, Jems…” Skye whispered.

“I wish we had all the time we wanted to just be us again,” Jemma kissed Skye’s forehead.

“M’sorry Jem,” Her hands moved along Skye’s back and through her hair as Skye spoke. Skye sighed and reluctantly cracked her eyes open. “This isn’t what I wanted for us…”

Jemma shifted and scooted down so she could lay her head on the pillow to bring her face to face with Skye. She nuzzled the end of Skye’s nose with her own and brought their lips together for a quick, sweet peck. She combed her fingers through Skye’s hair once more. “This is not your fault, Skye,” Jemma’s voice was soft around the edges but firm in tone as she said it.

Skye’s eyes dropped to a patch of freckles along Jemma’s cheek. In less than two hours, Jemma would be gone and Skye would have only the firewater to attempt keep her soul warm tonight. Skye turned her eyes, letting them roam over Jemma’s face. She had memorized Jemma’s face long ago, but there was always a lingering fear that someday a long enough gap of time between their meetings would give Skye’s weary mind ample time to lose the mental image of Jemma’s face. Skye’s hand left the spot on Jemma’s back where it had perched after she had laced her arm around Jemma’s middle before falling asleep and eventually her fingertips were drawing the outline of the side of Jemma’s face, dipping gently over the curves, tracing contours.

Jemma watched Skye’s face in silence, patiently waiting for whatever it was Skye was trying to either talk herself into saying or out of saying. Her own fingers were gliding along Skye’s side. Whatever Skye had been thinking of saying, when Skye finally spoke Jemma knew right away that it was a substitution for something else that she was holding back. “It’s not safe for you to keep sneaking in to see me,” Skye whispered. The pain in her eyes, caused by uttering these words, was much more intense than usual when this moment came during their meetups.

Jemma had grown accustomed to hearing the words. The first time Skye had uttered them, it had felt very similar to that night when Jemma had begged Skye to take her inside the zone with her. Since then, it had almost become ritual to squabble about whether or not Jemma should risk her life to come and see Skye sometimes for merely an hour or sometimes, like today, for a handful of hours. Jemma pursed her lips into a thin line for just a second before she kissed the end of Skye’s nose. “It’s not safe for you to still be inside the zone,” Jemma replied, a well-rehearsed dance ensued. Each one of them dotted their comments with a kiss – to the lips, to the cheek, forehead, neck, collarbone, chin, and temple – the circle continued on as usual.

“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, Jems,” Skye said after kissing Jemma’s shoulder.

Jemma slipped her fingers down Skye’s arm, skipped over her bandaged wrists and pulled her arm up by her hand so she could kiss the heel of Skye’s hand just by the edge of the of the bandages she had wrapped around Skye’s wrists just a couple of hours ago. Skye’s hand curved to rest along Jemma’s cheek. “And you think I don’t feel that way myself, constantly worrying about you?” Jemma asked her usual question in response to it. Jemma was almost smiling, the right corner of her mouth curved just slightly upward, at the familiarity of the comment.

Skye didn’t reply right away. She didn’t reply with their memorized routine. “Jems,” She said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m serious…” she said. “We can’t keep doing this. We’re going to get caught. It’ll happen eventually. It’s inevitable and I-,”

Jemma was frowning just before she leaned over and cut Skye off with a greedy kiss, as if the right amount of desire, love and passion transferred by mouth would be enough to convince Skye that there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that she was going to stop risking everything to meet with Skye. Jemma needed Skye. Her brain might have run on default scientist mode, but Skye was her heart. Without Skye…Jemma shuddered against the kiss at the thought. Skye stared at Jemma, breathless in the wake of the kiss. Jemma could easily pick out the equal portions of concern, desire, fear, love and defeat swimming in Skye’s eyes.

“Skye, we are in this together,” Jemma reminded her. “You can’t make me stop trying to come meet with you anymore than I can convince you to leave with me in,” she turned her wrist and glanced down at her watch. “One hour and seventeen minutes,” she turned her eyes back to Skye’s. “We do this together…or not at all. That was the deal, right?”

Skye was reluctant as she nodded against Jemma’s forehead. They both knew that neither of them would be able to commit to the ‘nothing at all,’ idea and so the only option was ‘together.’   Skye had entertained the idea of running away with Jemma before Coulson could ship her, Lincoln and Alisha inside the zone. Coulson had the right idea – put his own team inside the walls to check up on the Peace Council. Skye had known it was a one way trip when she had heard his game plan. The only way out would be fighting a, for lack of a better term, war. Often times when she could sleep because the hunger pangs in her belly were too strong or because her fingers and toes were numb to the point of pain, Skye would entertain daydreams of the idea of having run away to one of the tropical island nations that had refused to sign the Sokovia Accords and the SINS Initiative. She thought about them living in a small cottage tucked away inland from the hustle and bustle of whatever little tourist city existed on whatever island they chose, of lounging in a hammock in the lazy heat of a day, not having to struggle through battles over and over and over again, not having to worry about wars or…Skye knew it was selfish and childish to daydream about such things. Some nights, however, they were the only thoughts that comforted Skye enough to get through the night without giving up.

“It’s getting worse, Jems,” Skye whispered.

Jemma’s face fell. She couldn’t really imagine a way that life inside the zone could have been worse. Some of the stories Skye had told her over the last handful of months had sound eerily similar to things she’d learned about the Jewish ghettos and, in some cases, the concentration camps, of World War Two. There was forced hard labor. People were being starved while they were worked to death. There were gruesome medical experiments going on. Corrupt peace Council officers got off on extorting the starving, weary Inhumans in any way they could. There were also all kinds of stories of Inhumans being pulled even from their beds at night and passed around groups of Peace Council officers for various depraved acts before they were to be injected with the ‘cure’ reversal drug. For the moment, though there were plenty of deaths and enough horror to make anyone squirm, the one thing the zone was missing were mass graves. Jemma knew that would befall the zone any day. It was the reason she still always asked Skye to leave with her.

It was selfish, Jemma knew, but there came a point where she wanted her tunnel vision to take over. She wanted Skye out of here. If she was honest with herself, there was a part of her that didn’t care what happened to anyone else. They had already lost so much. Jemma was under no illusions that she would survive it if she lost Skye. She took a slow breathe through her nose and gently caressed the side of Skye’s face. “Let me show you what I brought for you,” She gently kissed Skye’s lips. “And then we’ll talk about our game plan. Alright?”

Skye nodded and Jemma kissed her forehead once more. As they sat up, Jemma tugged her t-shirt on. Skye moved to grab her undershirt, but Jemma reached out for her arm. “Don’t put that on yet,” she said before she grabbed Skye’s underthings from the nearby floor and handed them to Skye. Skye arched her eyebrows slightly but tugged on her underwear and hooked herself into her bra silently while Jemma leaned over to rummage through her backpack. Skye grabbed an elastic band from her own bag and sloppily tied her hair up, scooting closer to Jemma’s side to revel in the comforting body heat her closeness provided. Jemma smiled and laid a folded pair of pants and shirt into Skye’s lap before she kissed the side of Skye’s head.

“Thermals?” Skye arched her eyebrows as she ran her fingers over the material.

“Better,” Jemma grinned. She grabbed the pants first and shook them out. Skye’s face twisted in confusion. They looked like any other pair of ratty on thermal clothes. “Fitz designed them. They look like rubbish, she ran her fingers over some of the patches that looked like holes but were actually just part of the design. Jemma took Skye’s hand and brought it to the waistband of the pants at the front center of the waistband there was something sewn inside the waistband. Jemma guided Skye’s fingers into pressing the thin, unseen device and then she leaned over to kiss Skye, waiting for the thermals to do their thing.

Skye broke the kiss off a few moments later and looked down at the hand she had on the thermal pants still. “…They’re warm…” she murmured, feeling the pants.

Jemma grinned. She kissed Skye’s cheek. “Their initial charge works for twelve hours,” She explained. “After that, it works based off of your body heat and movement. Minimal effort will recharge it for greater amounts of time. Walking a kilometer gives you two hours of heat. Twenty pushups, gives you three hours,” She beamed. “Go on, try them on!” She held the pants up proudly. Skye blinked. She could have cried at the thoughtfulness of Fitz and Jemma working on these together for her. She leaned back and tugged the pants on her legs, lifted her butt up off the ground to pull them on proper only to find that they pant cuffs actually covered all of her feet except for her toes. Jemma handed Skye a pair of thick boot socks. “These aren’t heated but putting them on over the cuffs, obviously, will help your feet retain the heat generated by the thermals.” She tossed one a Skye and then started tugging the other on Skye’s closest foot. “Now the shirt,” Jemma was so happy to give something to Skye that was useful, that would help protect Skye, that would help them both sleep at night without an extra aid, like alcohol.

By the time Skye was finished pulling her other sock on and looked up, Jemma already had the shirt prepared and slipped it over Skye’s head so she could move her arms through it. Jemma’s fingers found the button on the shirt, this one in the right hand sleeve cuff, as Skye pulled the extra-long shirt down and tucked it into the waistband of the pants. The warmth of the clothes was immediate, and not just because they were designed to provide heat. With tears in her vision, Skye cupped Jemma’s face and pulled her in for a long kiss. When she broke the kiss, she wrapped her arms around Jemma and pulled her in for a tight embrace.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, Jems,” Skye exhaled a shaky breath and kissed the edge of Jemma’s earlobe.

“You loved me,” Jemma answered, wrapping her arms tightly around Skye. “That’s what you did.”

After a prolonged moment of simply holding each other, Jemma pulled away so she could show Skye the rest of the goodies she had brought. As always, there was a large container of water purifying tablets. There was a small box that she quickly arranged with first aid supplies for Skye’s wrists compiled while Skye watched, last minute from Jemma’s actual supply case, including antibiotics for the infected wounds. There was a small jacket, big enough for a kid to grow into, that was rigged similarly to Skye’s new thermals. There was a large bottle of supplements, designed specifically for Skye to take in the morning and at night. They contained all the nutrients and protein she would need in a day to operate with her limited caloric intake. They would expand in her stomach once she drank them with two cups of water. Jemma’s hope was that they would alleviate some of the hunger pains she knew Skye had but that Skye was always reluctant to admit to having. There were enough pills in the container to last at least a year and Jemma informed her that she would bring more since she knew Skye would probably give them to others.

There were some small non-perishable food items too that Jemma knew Skye missed and so Jemma wanted to give her small tastes of home at least, a jar of Nutella, some foil packages of tuna, a can of Dr. Pepper, a bag of skittles and a few packages of cherry pop tarts. There was also a ‘new’ pair of gloves that were thicker than the fingerless once Skye wore over her forced gauntlets. She had some helpful items that she unloaded into Skye’s backpack so to help her barter with some of the specific Inhumans who worked the black market area of town.

“Okay, this is the last of it, I promise,” Jemma was always careful to make sure any items she brought in would find and be inconspicuous in Skye’s pack. She held out her hand with three small devices in them. They looked like the LED keychains people used to put on their keyrings, nothing larger than the width of a quarter and oval shaped. It even had the outline of the little lightbulb that would light up when the button was pressed. “ _ Don’t _ use any of them unless you absolutely have no choice,” Jemma warned as Skye arched her eyebrows. “They’re old keyring torches,” She explained as Skye leaned closer to expect. “It looks normal, even when it goes through security scans,” she said. “If you press the regular button on top,” Jemma tapped the top black rubbed button with her thumb and Skye flinched. “It will only light up the light. However,” she turned the keychain and said, “Look closely.” At the back of the keyring, next to the little metal hook that would put the keychain onto a keyring, there was a tiny lever.

“If you flip the lever and then press the button,” Jemma explained without doing so, “It will instantly set off an EMP with a one hundred meter radius. It’s got an extra powerful punch. We’ve tested it. It knocks out their weapons, their communication links, even their armor suits – which mean their breathers as well,” She said.

Skye blinked down at the device in awe. “…Jemma…”

“I would have brought more but these three were the only ones we had time to make before I left,” Jemma said. She carefully tucked the three into the inside zippered pocket f Skye’s leather jacket. She looked at Skye and, with a grave expression, said, “Promise me you will  _ only _ use these if you absolutely have to. Once you use them, they’re going to know you’ve had help, so this is strictly a-,”

“A Hail Mary,” Skye nodded. “I get it,” She assured. “I promise, Jem. Only if I absolutely need to.” She swore.

Jemma exhaled a relieved breath and nodded. “Good,” she leaned over and kissed Skye and then set about unwrapping, cleaning and re-bandaging her wrists. “I don’t want to put these back on you,” Jemma sighed as she picked up the gauntlets, “But it will be noticeable if they’re gone or deactivated,” she frowned.

Skye almost blurted ‘ _ I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for you _ ,’ but she didn’t want to upset Jemma again. “It’s okay,” She assured Jemma even though her insides were already squirming at the prospect of chaining her powers back up. Jemma’s eyes were watered as she turned the gauntlets inside out so she could disinfect them with the same solution she had used to clean Skye’s wounds. She laid them by the heater to dry since they still had almost forty-five minutes together according to Jemma’s watch. Jemma tugged on some more of her layers and then pulled Skye to lay back down with her.

They spent the next half hour talking of the future. Skye was concerned that they were approaching the next step in the process – that the Peace Council was preparing mass extermination of the Inhumans. She told Jemma of rumors she had heard, about the Peace Council approving a measure in the secret courts to begin testing on the general population – all those screened who came back as having the DNA markers that signaled they could become Inhumans if sent through the terrigen mist, would be rounded up and dumped into the zone to rid humanity once and for all of the blight on their species. Jemma did her best to quell the growing fear within her and she tried to strategize with Skye, tried to talked to her about the plans she and Bobbi had been working on, to try and expose the Peace Council for the genocidal fascists they really, truly were, to make the world aware of the atrocities going on inside the zone since the media was immensely washed clean of any and all problems inside the borders of the zone.

Jemma’s watch beeped. She looked at it. She had fifteen minutes before she had to walk out of this room and leave Skye behind. With desperation, she pulled Skye into a long embrace and kiss. She worked to steal as many kisses and to blurt out as many, ‘ _ I love you’s _ a she could between kisses. Eventually, Jemma’s watch beeped again. Five minutes. “This is not the last time we’ll see each other,” Jemma said, as usual per their ritual. Her forehead was pressed to Skye’s and her hands were framing Skye’s face. Skye’s arms were loosely around Jemma, sliding up and down the outsides of them and along her back.

“I know,” Skye murmured. “Take care of yourself for me, Jems...Okay?” She whispered. Skye could already feel the heavy weight in her chest as her hurt twitched at the thoughts of sending Jemma off on her own to make her way back, or of sending Jemma away at all. Skye knew that not letting Jemma come with her into the zone originally had been the best plan, and she was glad it had worked out to keep Jemma safe in the end. Even so, letting Jemma go was grew a little harder every time she had to. “I love you so much. Please don’t ever forget or second guess that. I love you,” She said.

Jemma leaned in and feverishly kissed Skye a few more times. “I love you,” She said desperately between each of those kisses. “Don’t give up hope, Skye. I  _ will _ make this right – I  _ will _ get you out of this hell,” Jemma swore. “I love you, Skye,” she kissed Skye one last time before they forced themselves apart. Quickly, they both pulled all of their clothing layers on and packed up everything that either of them was taking with them. The last thing Jemma did was help Skye back into her gauntlets, but she was careful to ensure that they mechanism that tightened the metal rings inside was busted so that they wouldn’t’ dig into Skye’s wrists and forearms anymore. Reluctantly, she had restarted their power source, frowning as Skye flinched at the jolt it caused. With a last few quick kisses and exchanges of endearments, Skye walked Jemma to the door and kissed her once last time before Jemma disappeared out the door and Skye was left to watch the obscure vision of Jemma heading down the hallway through the distortion of the peephole.

Twenty three minutes later, after she dried the last of her tears, Skye tugged her ‘new’ ratty old gloves on over her gauntlets and pulled her knit cap over her head. She slipped her messenger back crossways over her torso and then pulled her leather jacket on and zipped it up, not wanting to chance anyone being able to steal the bag from her if she put it over top of anything else. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up over her knit cap covered head and squared her shoulders at the door. With a quick glance through the peephole to check that the coast was clear, Skye took a deep breath and quietly let herself out into the hall. She took her time retracing her steps back to the library since she wasn’t on a timetable to get somewhere like she had been on her way to meet Jemma.

Skye’s belly was still full from the meal Jemma had provided her. Her cheeks were still pale in the cold air they were exposed to, but the new thermals were keeping her much warmer than she normally would have been. Jemma’s gifts were always deliberately hard to see – they were either something she could hide by wearing under multiple layers of clothes, like the thermals, or they were specifically and purposefully worn down enough to look like they had been through the ringer and had been scavenged somehow, like the gloves.

She let her thoughts wander as she walked, wondering how different life would have been if none of this existed – no ‘enhanced humans,’ no aliens, no superpowers, no SHIELD. What would her life have been like if she had met the team, her family, without the Inhuman/Hydra/Alien/Avengers/Centipede factors? Would she and Jemma have settled down by now? What would Skye have even done for a living? Would Jemma have even been anywhere near her league outside of Shield? Probably not, but Skye liked to think she would have found a way to win Jemma over in the end. The thought made her smile to herself as she walked with her hands tucked inside her jacket pockets, keeping a watchful eye around her. It was dangerous to ever travel alone, which was how Skye always traveled anymore.

Skye wondered if Coulson would have found a way to fix this if he hadn’t been…She gave her head a quick shake and took a deep breath. She had to focus. She had a few stops to make on her way ‘home.’ She couldn’t think about the people she had lost. She had to focus on making it back through the city. When she made it home, she could let her mind wander, she could think about those they had lost and then she could comfort herself with thoughts of Jemma and the memorized vision of Jemma’s face, soft and warm, insistent on saving her. Skye squared her shoulders and walked with her head held high, her eyes up and alert. Even though she hated the way Jemma put herself in danger to do so, meeting with Jemma always served to bolster Skye’s determination to make this situation right. They would do it together. That was the deal – do it together, or not at all.


	4. Dazed Melancholy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Forewarning:** Don't think I have any particular warnings actually. Switching it up for a little Simmons POV to get inside her head and go outside the zone.
> 
> Thanks, as always, for the reviews, kudos and for reading! <3  
> Have yourselves a wonderful week/weekend! :o)
> 
> \---------------------------------

“I was wondering if you’d show up for our session,” Bobbi said from her spot on the mats in the gym where she was finishing a stretch as she spotted Jemma curving around the corner and over the threshold of the door.

Jemma had gone back to her apartment when she had been delivered back to the base by the transport she met up with, after having dropped off her gathered ‘samples,’ to the lab. She had changed into the particular outfit she had relegated to the label of ‘workout clothes.’ Bobbi had helped her in picking these out, a pair of cropped lycra/cotton/spandex blended compression pants that clung to every bit of her from hip to just over her knee, a very snug sports bra that held everything loose in place and a pair of trainers. Jemma never felt comfortable that exposed so she always arrived wearing a sweatshirt that was too big for her. Bobbi never asked but she knew it once belonged to Skye as she had sparred many times with Skye in the worn sweatshirt.

It was a modified old SHIELD gym sweatshirt, dark gray, cut to make a larger collar that hung limply off of Jemma’s right shoulder since hers were just a tad narrower than Skye’s. The sleeves were extra wide and curled upward around the ridge of where Skye had cut them into short sleeves that hung at lopsided lengths on each of Jemma’s arms somewhere between the top of her elbow and the ridge of her shoulder roughly midway over her biceps. The bottom of the sweatshirt cut off just above Jemma’s navel and, even though she still felt a bit exposed wearing it, she felt much more comfortable than she would have if she had worn just the bra, pants and sneakers like Bobbi did. Her hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail and she carried a water bottle by its curled handle hook in the crook of her index finger as she had walked into the gym.

“I haven’t missed one because I’ve forgotten have I?” Jemma asked, worried that she hadn’t checked her schedule properly over the last week. Bobbi fixed her with a funny look. Jemma tended to come back from her visits with Skye in a dazed melancholy that hung over her like a telling cloud. Bobbi almost always knew when Jemma was going to meet up with Skye, not just because Jemma informed her of her cover story for a particular meet, but because she recognized the telltale signs when she spotted Jemma upon return.

Bobbi never directly addressed this dazed melancholy, but she almost always managed to pull Jemma out of it just enough to allow her to pull herself back together and put her carefully practiced façade back into place. Bobbi shook her head. “No, nothing like that,” Bobbi was on her feet in the next moment bouncing from foot to foot on her toes and swinging out her arms in odd windmill patterns. “Want to get to it, then?” Bobbi arched her eyebrows up curiously at the smaller woman.

Jemma nodded. She was eager for a distraction. Bobbi helped Jemma get through her warm up stretches; they both spent twenty minutes jogging on side by side treadmills in silence before Bobbi worked on wrapping up both of their hands for sparring practice. Jemma had learned a new appreciation for the lessons Bobbi had been giving her for the past two years. Bobbi had suggested them at first. They were meant to distract Jemma from her stress and worries and to get her into better shape. Jemma wasn’t in terrible shape to begin with but there was something visceral about knowing that she would, on some levels, be able to protect herself if it ever came to it as well. Jemma hated the feeling of being a damsel in distress that needed a protector while those around her worked to save both her and themselves. She wanted to be part of the working mechanism and to do what she needed to take care of herself. Her intelligence would take her only so far. Jemma was smart enough to know that she needed to acquire the other necessary tools to survive. She would pull equal weight wherever she had to. So she spent time every other day – and during especially stressful times, daily – sparring with Bobbi, if possible.

The first few times, Bobbi had gone easy on her, worried that she might actually hurt Jemma, right up until Jemma had point blank called her on it. She had shouted at Bobbi that Bobbi wouldn’t do that with anyone else on the team (okay, except for maybe Fitz), so she should stop holding back. Jemma had pushed every button she could find until Bobbi had finally given in. The first few weeks after that had left Jemma stiff, sore and sometimes covered in unsightly bruises (those had alarmed the hell out of Skye when they had met and she had seen them without knowing their origin). Jemma considered them hard earned personal war wounds and found that each time someone grimaced and asked about one, internally she felt a surge of pride at what she had learned under Bobbi’s tutelage so far, even if it sometimes left her looking like she’d run through a gauntlet. She <i>had</i> run through the gauntlet; the gauntlet known as Bobbi Morse, and she had survived. She had gotten her own hits in too. Bobbi wasn’t as hobbled as Jemma after most sessions, but she still had an occasional battle wound of her own, inflicted by Jemma.

Bobbi’s patience was saintly so far as Jemma was concerned. If Jemma couldn’t seem to grasp whatever mechanical concept Bobbi was trying to explain to her, Bobbi took the time to think about how she phrased the explanation so she could define it in a scientific way or through some kind of equation that Jemma’s brain could visualize it and turn it into fluid movement. It was like a well-choreographed dance. Jemma was hardly a well-trained, fluid dancer but she memorized the steps, she made the reactions into reflexes. She honed the speed and timing of her reflexes. She sharpened her peripheral attention. Jemma kept up with Bobbi, punch for punch, dive for dive, kick for kick. She ducked. She flipped. She retaliated.

Bobbi praised her takedowns. She corrected any mistakes. She scolded Jemma into focus and to goad her action. Bobbi did what she could to sculpt Jemma into strength and sinew, into grit and endurance. She didn’t hold back on Jemma, even when May or Fitz would bump into her and admonish her for going to hard at Simmons in their sparring matches. Bobbi always gave them the same answer; A small, easy shrug and a confident, “She’s tough. She can handle it.”

“You’re angry today,” Bobbi feinted to Jemma’s right and Jemma threw her weight which allowed Bobbi to land a jab into her exposed side. “It’s making you careless – Focus Simmons!” Bobbi scolded. They had been at it for well over an hour. Both of them were covered in a sheen of sweat with strands of matted hair sticking to various parts of each of their faces, careless stray strands of hair that had escaped and plastered to their temple or cheeks. Jemma’s muscles ached. They screamed at her to call an end to the session. She had hiked multiple kilometers each way getting into and out of the zone and making it look legitimate that she was collecting samples related to lab experiments – experiments she now would have to do in order to avoid drawing suspicious. Instead she was sparring with Bobbi, gritting her teeth, trying to bring her mind to focus.

Without thought, Jemma’s muscles moved reflexively. She dodged a left hook, dropped her weight and swung her body, creating a low windmill with her leg that swept Bobbi’s legs right out from under her. Bobbi slammed down onto the mats on her back and a huff of air knocked out of her from the sudden takedown. Jemma blinked and looked over at Bobbi.

Bobbi closed her eyes and chuckled. “That’s more like it,” she said before Jemma could try and apologize.

Jemma still went red in the cheeks though as she stood up and held her right hand out to help Bobbi up. Bobbi’s left hand swung up and clasped onto Jemma’s, both of them straining muscles as Bobbi made her way back to her feet. Both of them were panting and sweat soaked. Bobbi checked the clock hanging on the wall and exhaled a sigh. “I think we should probably call it a day for now, yeah?” She arched her eyebrows and Jemma knew that the decision was up to her; Bobbi would stay and let Jemma beat her aggression out however long Jemma needed to.

Jemma acquiesced with a nod and gave the clock a glance. “I think that’s a good idea,” She said before they went to retrieve their gym towels and water bottles.

“You did good today, Simmons,” Bobbi said as they walked into the nearby women’s locker room and separated to go to lockers at opposite ends of one of the benches in the mid-sized room.

Jemma sat down on the bench in front of her locker after spinning the combination into the lock to pull it free. She let out a noncommittal hum in reply and opened her locker, giving her full view of all the pictures she had printed of her and Skye, of the two of them and the team. They were like family photos in a high school locker. There was happiness plastered all over the inside of the locker door. Though she knew it was in there, opening the locker door and seeing it plastered in there like that always caught Jemma off guard. She got lost in her thoughts, wondering if she should take the photos down. They seemed like the life from another Jemma Simmons, in a different universe with a different outcome.

Bobbi had her hands unwrapped and the wraps stuffed in her locker with her sneakers and socks by the time she glanced back over her shoulder at Jemma since she hadn’t really replied. Bobbi tried not to frown as the morose mood fell over Jemma again. “How’d it go with the sample retrieval today?” Bobbi asked to jar Simmons from her thoughts.

Jemma blinked and started slightly, having forgotten that Bobbi was in the locker room with her. How had the sample retrieval gone? It was code. Bobbi wanted to know how Skye was. _Skye’s slowly dying in front of my eyes,_ Jemma thought, _and there’s nothing concrete that I can do to stop it._ _I will lose her._ Jemma started unwrapping her hands and rolling the wraps up neatly. “I managed to get the samples I needed,” she spoke in the code. Bobbi would understand. _We both met up without trouble._ “I’m afraid they might not be as sufficiently hearty as I need for the experiment.” _She’s very weak, gaunt. It’s entirely possible the food I let her scarf down may have made her sick after going so long without._ “There were a few instances of warping, some signs of breakdown on the molecular level. I suspect I’ll need to keep a very close watch on them in the incubator to make sure they’re producing to proper spec levels for trials.” _She’s sustained injury and I’m worried out of my mind after what I’ve seen. I want to keep a closer eye on her, but I don’t know how I could get away with it…_

Bobbi nodded in understanding. When Jemma looked over at her, she saw the concern registered across Bobbi’s face. “A decent agar meal and a nice warm slumber in the incubator will do a lot to bring it back, I should think,” She returned her comment in code.  _ A good meal and a warm sleep will get her back on track.  _ “Your dedication to the experiment is above and beyond – it’d go off the rails if you weren’t involved so intimately in the process.”  _ You know she’d be gone if it weren’t for you, right? _

Jemma pressed her lips together and tossed the hand wraps into her locker before looking down at her overly pink and slightly swollen skin, still overheated from the sparring. She nodded her head just enough that it was noticeable.

Bobbi asked, “Keep me updated on your progress, okay?”  _ I’m here if you need me, you know that don’t you? _

Jemma glanced at Bobbi and gave her a grateful nod. “Yeah,” she replied. “Of Course.” She turned back to her hands in her lap and slowly starts tugging her sneakers off. A thought came to her and she turned to ask Bobbi a question just as Bobbi had turned back to her locker and peeled her sports bra off, showcasing a ragged scar on the back of her right shoulder blade. The sight of it gave Jemma pause. She remembered the fight that had caused that injury. It had been a roughly thirteen months since that incident. Jemma stared as Bobbi bent and peeled away her own cropped pants, revealing her other battle scar from the fight that had made her a widow. It slashed diagonally over three inches from just under the outer apex of her right thigh.

Jemma turned her eyes away and looked down at her hands again. She couldn’t fathom how Bobbi had managed to return herself to some level of proper functioning human after Hunter had died. No, he didn’t just die. He was murdered. Even that was inadequate a description. Executed; that was the right term. The weeks afterward had given Jemma a surreal glimpse into what her life would be like if (when?) something were to happen to Skye to take her away from Jemma forever. The only difference, she knew, was that Jemma was well aware that she would never be able to pull herself together by the shattered pieces of her heart and soul if it were to happen to her. She simply could not comprehend on, an emotional or a scientific level, how Bobbi had pulled herself up by her bootstraps to keep going. It was admirable, the way in which Bobbi had found some way back to a form somewhat resembling her former self.

Jemma heard the water in the shower room and gave her head a quick jarring shake. She peeled her way out of her workout clothes, tossing them temporarily into her locker before she grabbed her shower toiletry bin, shut the locker and hooked the lock into place. She grabbed a clean towel on her way into the showers and stepped into her own stall. Her muscles screamed against the hot water as Jemma stepped into it. She closed her eyes and leaned her head down into the water, hanging it so the water beat against the back of her neck and shoulders. Her mind was a trail full of traps that she failed to let her thoughts properly navigate as she stood letting the hot water beat down on her, resting some of her weight on her hands on the tiled wall next to the water nozzles.

Fresh hot wells of saline sprung from her eyes and mixed with the cascading water over her face. She would not let herself sniffle or sob in the showers, not while Bobbi was in here and not while there was a chance someone could happen by to find her. Jemma buried those urges as deep down inside her as she was able to. Her eyes might well and occasionally someone might catch her with a single tear having been let loose or with telltale bloodshot eyes, but those were easier to brush off. Jemma refused to let the others see her breakdown. Breaking down, sitting around wallowing and lamenting the situation they were in, pining and merely mentally  _ wishing  _ she could change things would do nothing to aid the solution to her problem. Only action would suffice.

Even so, standing in the torrent, Jemma let the tears flow freely. As hard as it was to see Skye in the condition she was in, it was harder not knowing if she made it back alright or if she had been stopped, not knowing where she would sleep for the night or if she would get caught with the contraband. She knew Skye would never give her up as a supplier (not that she would have to since they would know right away) but she also knew that if Skye was caught with half of the items Jemma had given her, it would likely be cause for immediate execution…or worse. They might parade around that they finally caught her and then spread the news reels about her reaction to the reversal injections. The mere idea of them injecting Skye with a drug knowing it was going to kill her made Jemma’s blood boil. Jemma would never know if they had euthanized Skye until it was already done. The impotence of her ability to truly protect Skye outside of giving her some creature comforts and a full belly every handful of weeks, it filled Jemma with a rage unlike any she had ever felt before in her life.

Jemma always tried to bottle that anger. What did May always used to say?  _ ‘You don’t turn it off, Jemma. You  _ **_save it_ ** _...and when you need it, you  _ **_use_ ** _ it.’  _ Jemma took a few sobering and slow breathes, inhaling deeply through her nose and slowly (and quietly) exhaling through her mouth. She willed herself to return to a center of calm and when she reached some semblance of it, she turned around and hung her head back, pushing her hair back and letting the water soak her through. She robotically went through the routine motions of showering, washing and rinsing her hair, lathering her loofa and cleaning her body thoroughly, washing her face twice to get all of the grime of the day off. She tried to draw her mind to happier memories with Skye as she moved through the motions of cleaning herself.

By the time Jemma turned the water in her shower off, Bobbi had already gone. Jemma dried her hair and her body and then wrapped a towel around her. She carried her things back to her locker and stowed what she didn’t need. She threw on an oversized t-shirt, somewhat baggy sweatpants and a pair of socks. She collected her dirty workout clothes in a ball in one arm and then made her way back to the room she would have shared with Skye if she hadn’t already been in the Zone when they had moved to this closer base of operations. It was still decorated the same way their room in the old base had been. Some nights Jemma searched the closet until she found a shirt or jacket that still smelled like Skye and brought it bed with her like a child with a coveted baby blanket.

“Simmons,” Jemma jumped slightly at the door to the room when May’s harsh voice from over her shoulder broke her out of her daze of memories. She turned to look over her shoulder and then grimaced at the pain her muscles shot through her aching back and shoulders. May’s eyebrows came together in the middle. “Are you hurt?”

If Jemma didn’t know any better, she would have thought May was concerned about her. She knew things she wasn’t supposed to know, though. She mustered up a sheepish little smile and nodded. “Had a work out with Bobbi,” She said.

“I know,” May nodded. “I saw some of it.”

“Can I help you with something, May?” Jemma asked quickly, with a curious nonchalant smile, not wanting to get into some kind of digging expedition. May had a crafty way of digging for information that could easily catch a person off guard. Jemma was exhausted and she had suspicions that May had specifically pursued a conversation with her now because she had taken that into account.

May hesitated, as if she had something deeper to say to Jemma but couldn’t decide if she should or not. She cleared her throat. “Right, you’ve had a busy day,” She said in calm monotone, typical May fashion. “I have a new project I want to discuss with you,” May said. “Not tonight,” she paused and just her eyes glanced to different sides of the hall. “In private,” she went on. “I’d like you to meet me in my office tomorrow morning at seven.” She didn’t say so, but this was clearly an order, not a suggestion.

Jemma hesitated for a moment but acquiesced with a small nod. “Yeah, of course. Sure,” she nodded and then cleared her throat and gave her head an angled jut toward the door. “I should get my reports finished so I’ll be ready first thing in the morning,” She said.

May paused again and leaned slightly and Jemma’s eyes almost widened as she thought May might hug her. May seemed to second guess her decision and then turned to go, but Jemma had seen it. It was almost as if May wanted to pull her into a hug, but that was absurd. May didn’t hug. It was a rarity before Coulson died and now it was absent even more so. A second later, May was back to her stony, stiff old soldier stuff. “Good. I’ll let you go to finish your errands. See you in the morning, Simmons.”

“Goodnight, May,” Jemma murmured before she opened her door and closed it by leaning back on it once she had stepped inside. She took a deep breath and steadied her nerves for a moment. Eventually she pushed off of the door then turned and flipped the lock on the doorknob and tapped a few commands out on the electronic panel next to the door to trigger the hidden magnetic locks Fitz had secretly built into the framework for her. She dropped her workout clothes into her small hamper and then carried it to the corner of the room next to the bathroom where there was a rather tiny combo washer/dryer unit and set a load of clothes in the washer.

She gathered up Skye’s laptop and piles of paperwork from projects she was working on. She laid out on her stomach in the middle of the queen sized bed, a pillow tucked under her chin and chest, the laptop open in front of her, her notes and paperwork to the right of the laptop. Once the laptop was booted, Jemma went through some of the commands Skye had taught her before she had left for the Zone and set up the scramblers. She wasn’t doing anything nefarious necessarily in that moment but she knew there were eyes and ears everywhere and sometimes it just made her feel better knowing that Skye had left this tool behind as a way to protect her. She couldn’t figure out why May seemed to allow it since no one had ever called her on it, but she was too tired at the moment to dwell on it.

Despite her exhaustion, Jemma managed to lose herself for two hours in the work in front of her, a lot of it reviews on reports May had given her to scrutinize and some of it reports from her own projects that just needed the final touches and edits to complete her write ups. She rubbed her bleary eyes and jumped slightly, gasping when a swift knock at her door startled her.  

“Simmons?” Fitz’s voice muffled through the door. He waited a beat then said, “Jemma? Are you in there?”

Jemma sighed. She marked off her To-Do list and a last note before gathering her pile of paperwork as she climbed from the bed. “Yes, just a minute, Fitz!” Jemma called as she dumped the pile of work onto the nightstand. She stepped to her door and looked through the peephole. On the other side Fitz was alone in the hallway, swinging his arms to loosely clap them together while he tilted his head back and exhaled a sigh, waiting for Jemma to open her door. Jemma smirked to herself for a brief moment and breathed a sigh of relief that Fitz was by himself. She tapped the appropriate code on the wall panel and then flipped the doorknob lock before she turned the handle and pulled it open.

“Hey-,” Fitz paused as he looked her up and down in her socks, sweats and t-shirt. Jemma was normally well put together until right before she finally went to bed. The past year and a half had changed a lot of things about his best friend, a lot of things that Fitz found upsetting. For some reason, this seemed to be the one that upset him the most at random times. “Hey,” He said gently again. Her face was drawn and weary, with dark circles under it and what he assumed was now a permanent worry crease among the sea of freckles splattered across her forehead. He thought for a moment that it looked like she had been through a war and the small smile on his face that normally preceded a teasing jest slipped from his mouth as the realization hit Fitz that, as a matter of fact, Jemma  _ had _ been through a war. She was still in one. They all were.

“Hey, Fitz,” Jemma offered Fitz a tired little smile as she leaned against the edge of the open door with her shoulders. “What’s up?”

“I, erm,” Fitz scratched anxiously at the hair at the back of his head. “I just, I wasn’t sure if you’d had anything to, ah…to eat yet, so I…I, um…thought I’d come and check up on you s-since Bobbi said you, ah…you were back from your…from collecting your samples.” He stammered.

“Oh,” Jemma’s lips twitched, stuck between a thoughtful frown and a grateful smile. “Fitz, that’s very sweet,” She paused. “I was just finishing up some work. I-I don’t feel so hungry, really,” That was a lie and she knew by the disconcerting pucker in Fitz’s forehead that he didn’t believe her for a second. She had nibbled on a few small bits of food once she had met up with the supply run convoy that drove her back to a pick up point for the base but other than that, she hadn’t eaten much since breakfast, which she had overdone so she’d have extra energy for all her trekking in the day. If she really thought about it, her body was definitely hungry. Emotionally, mentally, even physically at this point, she was too exhausted to eat. She had sipped on some tea and drank a lot of water to compensate for the trekking and workouts. “Thank you, but…” Jemma’s voice tapered off and a frown pulled the corners of her mouth down. Did turning food down when it was readily available to her while she was hungry, while Skye was floating between starving and sated? Was Skye alright after Jemma let her eat all that food this morning after her intermittent starvation periods? She had given Skye some medication for her injuries and for her pain and with them she had given her a couple of medications to hopefully keep her digestive system from overloading her. 

“Simmons?” Fitz asked as he watched the blank stare overtake Jemma’s face as her forehead puckered in thought. “Jemma? Alright, yeah?” He waved a hand in front of her face. 

Startled, Jemma blinked and shook her head to give herself a jarring. “You know, now that I think of it, Fitz…a sandwich would be lovely,” She decided halfheartedly. Fitz gave Jemma a nod, relieved that it didn’t take more convincing like he’d expected it might. He smiled and stepped further back into the hallway and held his arm up for her, bent at the elbow jokingly, for her to take. 

Jemma held her finger up to signal that she needed just a minute. Fitz nodded and waited. Jemma stepped back into the room, carefully and securely shut down and locked Skye’s laptop. She stepped into the hall and shut the door behind her, using her phone to arm the mag locks before she slipped her arm into Fitz’s and let him lead the way to the kitchen. 


	5. Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Forewarning:** No real forewarning alarms to sound for this one. IT covers Skye's return from the meeting with Jemma. Next chapter will have more action and go deeper down the rabbit hole of...erm...conspiracy? Idk. 
> 
> Thanks, as always, for the hits, kudos and comments.   
> Have an awesome night/week!   
> <3  
> Until next time: In the immortal words of Bill & Ted - Be excellent to each other, and...party on, dudes! \m/  
> :o)

Skye’s feet pounded the pavement with just a bit of extra levity as she made her way out of the library and down the steps. She had another three kilometers’ walk to the building her apartment was in. The damp coldness of the weather outside had a tougher fight making it into her bones since she had the aid of the new heated thermals.  _ Always taking care of me, huh Jems? _ She mused to herself while keeping her head up, eyes alert and face impassive as she walked. She pulled her hood as far forward as she could and then zipped the leather jacket all the way up so that she could pop the collar to block the wind from parts of her cheeks, chin, mouth and nose. She gave her knit cap a few tugs to make sure it was as far down over her ears and forehead as she could. Though she wanted to walk faster (that would add extra charge to her thermals, right?) so that she could get home both just to be ‘home,’ and also to beat the setting sun, she kept her pace controlled, weaving her way through the people on the street while paying close attention to all of her surroundings.

On the roofs of multiple buildings there were sniper patrols. Usually it was one or two Peace Council guards, stationed to handle a corridor of three or four streets. One played lookout for trouble and the other prepared to neutralize a target at the first sign of trouble. Patrols also rode through the streets, some of them in armored cars, some of them even on horseback (which both let them move quickly through a crowd and gave them a good height to view everything going on around their patrol areas). She picked out two plainclothes PC officers in the first kilometer between the library and her apartment building and wondered for a moment, however paranoid, if maybe they had found her out? Maybe someone had tipped them off that she was doing something she shouldn’t be doing. Mentally, without letting a single muscle of her face twitch with anxiety, Skye ran through a checklist in her mind to make sure she had covered all her tracks and had been very careful not to be followed at all.

She continued moving through the people shuffling on the street on their way home from whatever job they had been assigned to work. Skye had arranged for today to be her single day off from her assigned duties, so if the officers  _ were _ attempting to follow or scout for her, it wasn’t because she hadn’t turned up to work. She forced the paranoid thoughts to a distant region of her mind and minded her own, winding down the appropriate roads. She felt relief when she finally turned onto her street.

Skye stopped at the bakery on the corner to see what they might have had shipped in since it was the beginning of the week and managed to buy a small round whole grain loaf that was about the size of a grapefruit. She gave the shop’s owner an extra of the credit coins she used to purchase it and a small wink. She knew his husband was ill and missing work and they could use all they could get. Skye knew she’d stop by on the way home tomorrow with a ration of the water purifying tablets for them but right now she couldn’t risk wrestling them free to hand some over.

“See you tomorrow, Jack,” She gave him a smile when he looked at her, speechless at the generosity. Normally, Skye didn’t have any of these to spare so when she did give Jack any extras, they came in the form of water purifying tablets or whatever other items she might have picked up along her treks home. Jemma had given her extra tokens and they weren’t traceable to an origin so she planned to make good use of them among the people that really needed them. With that credit, Jack could get his husband, Parker, the medicine he needed from the pharmacy before it progressed past the point of treatment. Skye knew she had helpful medical supplies tucked into her bag but she also knew Jemma had been very serious when she had told Skye she was to use them for her own injuries on her wrists and the fear and concern in Jemma’s eyes when she had made Skye swear to it that, well, Skye was willing to be selfish just this once. She couldn’t help anyone if she was dead from some kind of bacterial infection sepsis, right? Right.

Skye carefully tucked the bread away in her bag before she left the bakery and turned down the street for the last three blocks of her walk against the biting wind of the evening. She was relieved that she’d reach the building before nightfall. Not many people liked to venture out after dark. It was dangerous to do so. Peace Council guards who were just getting off duty were apt to get their kicks in on the way out in any way they could find and all they had to do in order to justify whatever atrocity (Skye refused to refer to them as anything but atrocities) they perpetrated on another human being was say that the person had either attacked them or refused to be searched. Skye always did her best to blend in and when she couldn’t make it to her apartment before sundown, she was careful to find her way home either underground or by winding through the lobbies and back alleys of the other buildings – anything to keep from getting caught by the PC gangs.

Jemma’s good luck was with her this evening though, as she made it with time to spare. “Hey, Jasmine,” Skye called out when she spotted the familiar shape of the six-year-old playing on the steps with a broken piece of pink chalk Skye had sweet talked one of the nicer Peace Council guards out of a week earlier. It was a shame there weren’t more of those among the Peace Council guards, or an organized revolution might actually be plausible. Skye eschewed the thought and smiled at the little girl with wild black curls poking out from under her rumpled snow cap and hood. Her eyes were bright against her dirt and pink chalk smudged cocoa colored skin as she recognized that it was Skye that had greeted her.  

“HI SKYE!” Jasmine waved a pink chalk dusted palm at Skye.

Skye couldn’t help the soft chuckle that sprung from her lips as she approached the steps. It hurt her heart that Jasmine was stuck in this horrible place for no reason than she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time during what had amounted to a terrorist attack. Unfortunately that incident had led to her transitioning into an Inhuman. Her mother had refused to go into the zone when they had been taken into forcible custody, had claimed she was scared of her daughter’s new ability, which had manifested in the form of Omni and zoolinguism. Before they had started dosing her with medication to mute her abilities, it meant that Jasmine could speak with  _ anyone _ inside the zone and could even talk with the various animals located within the zone. After they started dosing Jasmine like the other Inhumans, her thoughts often became muddled when she tried to understand someone with an accent or when she tried to speak with a stray dog or bird. It often left the little girl with migraines. At the time, she had only been three, had just been learning  _ everything _ about life, not just what she could do that made her special. Now it was muted and muddled for the little girl, after it had been turned into an excuse for her mother to flee and save herself.

Jasmine’s father, Aaron, had come into the zone with her and had been targeted by the Peace Council guards on multiple occasions as they assumed he was the one who was the Inhuman. He never corrected them since it meant Jasmine was, largely, left alone by the everyday guards. She was the youngest person in the entire apartment building and with her bubbly, happy personality, it was no wonder Skye and most of the other tenants kept an eye out for her while her dad was on labor duty or down for the count after an attack. She studied with some of the other younger children in the neighborhood with a form teacher that lived in one of the first floor apartments of the building. The adult tenants that watched her frequently repeated warnings of where she should stay away from, where to keep close, what to say if certain things were asked of her and so on until they were ingrained in her head and she could recite them back whenever asked.

“I like your drawings,” Skye grinned at the scribbly chalk drawings roughed out on the cement. It made the concrete stoop much less oppressive and cold than it had been without them. She chuckled again when Jasmine jumped to her feet and raced over to hug Skye around the waist. Skye pulled her hands from her jacket pockets and wrapped them around Jasmine’s shoulders and head. “How long have you been out here without your gloves on, hm?” she asked.

“Just a little while!” Jasmine insisted right away as she leaned back and looked up at Skye.

Skye chuckled again and reached out to fondly tap the bottom of her chin. “Why don’t you come inside with me and we’ll see if there’s anything to whip up for dinner before your dad gets home so we can surprise him – whattaya say, kid?” If Skye had a glaring soft spot, it would most definitely be kids. It was inescapable and even if she  _ could  _ have helped it, she wouldn’t have. Kids deserved a chance. They didn’t deserve to grow up in this bleak life, if one could call it a ‘life,’ really.

“Okay!” Jasmine agreed. She grabbed up her dwindling piece of chalk and stuffed it carefully in her pocket before pulling the pocket’s zipper down. She reached to grab Skye’s hand but Skye shook her head and turned, crouching toward the ground. With a gleeful giggle, Jasmine grabbed Skye’s shoulders and took a leap onto her back. Skye hoisted her up for a piggyback ride, hooking the little girl by the backs of her legs and trying not to grimace at the bruises she had jostled in the process. With the little girl on her back, it was easier to wince and grimace at certain aches and pains that hoisting the kid up caused her, but Skye thought it was worth the aches. Jasmine giggled the whole way while Skye attempted to gallop and whinny, through the lobby, up to the third floor on the stairs and then down the length of the third floor corridor. Jasmine and her father, Aaron, had been assigned the apartment across from the place Skye had long ago been assigned to occupy with Alisha and Lincoln.

Skye let Jasmine down in the hallway, out of breath by the time she had stopped by their doors. “Okay, let’s leave your dad a note so he’ll know where we are,” Skye dug around her pockets and her bag until she came up with an empty scrap of paper. She borrowed Jasmine’s chalk to write ‘ _ Dinner in 315’ _ on it and after handing Jasmine her chalk piece, she poked the note through the stray nail hanging above Jasmine and Aaron’s apartment number so he would see it right away when he arrived.

Unlocking her own door, Skye let Jasmine inside. Skye set up a fire in the very tiny fireplace to warm the living room/dining room up and then helped Jasmine out of some of her outside gear. “I have a surprise for you,” Skye told the little girl.

“You do??” Jasmine’s face lit up excitedly and she immediately began to wonder if that meant Skye had more colored chalk for her.

Skye smiled fondly at the little girl, trying not to let her sadness seep in. She nodded as she pulled her leather coat off and hung it by the door after stuffing her knit cap and gloves in the pockets. Her hooded jacket went next leaving her in the thermals, her thick but worn and torn jeans, her boots, and an oversized sweatshirt. She pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and lifted her bag from her shoulders as Jasmine followed her to the kitchen where set the bag on the counter. She didn’t empty its contents fully. She did open it up and pulled the largest item out, which was the bundled up little jacket. It would be big on Jasmine but that just meant she would be able to wear it longer as she grew. Her growth was already stunted from the malnourishment they were all subjected to living in the zone. Skye did her best to help Aaron keep Jasmine fed but Skye had Alisha to look after as well. As a result, well, Jemma got to see Skye in her own malnourished state. Despite having slept comfortably with Jemma for a few hours and despite having eaten her fill earlier – something she knew she would pay for some time tonight when her digestive system really caught up with the overload of food - Skye often went without so others could have more and frequently lived at the barest sustenance needed to function. Jemma’s pills would help, she hoped, going forward, for now.

Crouching behind the counter of the kitchen, she leaned on one knee on the ground to be more eye-level with Jasmine. Unfolding the jacket, she held it up for Jasmine to see. Just like the other things, it looked a bit tattered and worn just like all the things Jemma had given Skye but that was engineered to look like that. “Ta-da!” She said of the puffy navy blue coat with red lining. Jasmine arched her right eyebrow up at Skye and Skye chuckled. “Hey, this is a  _ very  _ special coat, you know,” she said. Jasmine seemed skeptical. Held up the jacket, “C’mon, try it on and I’ll show you,” she suggested.

Skye helped Jasmine slip into the coat. She zipped it up and then took Jasmine’s hand and showed her where the hidden power button for the heat was. “After you push this,” she pressed the button in around Jasmine’s fingers. “It’ll heat up and keep you warmer outside,” she smiled “If it wears down, you just make sure you move around like you usually do and it’ll recharge for you,” she explained.

Jasmine was about to tell Skye she was being silly when she felt the warmth starting to fill up the coat. Skye smiled as the girl’s eyes widened. “It’s real!” she cheered.

Skye chuckled and before she could say anything else, Jasmine launched at her and hugged her fiercely, spewing out repeated ‘Thank you!’s as she did. Skye hugged her back and kissed the side of her snow cap covered head. “You’re welcome,” she replied. “You remember the deal, right?” Jasmine nodded at the question. “What do you say if anyone asks you where you got it?” Skye asked to make sure.

“From my friend Skye,” Jasmine answered. “It’s a present,” she beamed a grin.

“Good girl,” Skye grinned again. “When you get too warm, press the button again to turn it off and then we’ll hang it up, okay?” Jasmine nodded and Skye moved to stand up. She nodded to one of the lower cabinets. “Check and see what we’ve got to work with, I’m just going to check on Alisha, okay?”

“Okay!” Jasmine nodded.

Skye retrieved the small bread loaf and one of the foil packages of tuna. She grabbed one of the already treated bottles of water from the fridge and a spoon then headed for the back bedroom.

Alisha was in one of her usual spots in the corner of the room. She rarely left the room except to use the bathroom. The room was dark, the windows covered in blackout curtains. Alisha was in the far corner, her knees drawn up to her chest, rocking slightly in her spot and murmuring to herself. Skye knocked on the door and slowly pushed it open to let herself in. “Hey, Alisha,” She spoke softly as she entered. “It’s Skye,” she held her hands up in front of her so that Alisha would be able to see from the dim light of the hall what she had. Alisha looked up at her, focused her eyes and seemed to nod her acknowledgement that she recognized Skye and wasn’t going to freak out.

During the lockdown that followed the Blitz, Skye and Alisha had tried to stay hidden. They needed time to find a way to get out of the zone so they could get word to Coulson on what was going inside after the lockdown. They needed time for some hysteria to die down so that others locked in wouldn’t turn them in. Alisha had been taken one night on her way sneaking home. Skye had spent over a month trying to find out where they held her and what they were doing to her. She had no doubt they were trying to turncoat her, the way they had with other allies who were now working for the Peace Council. After the hysteria died down enough and people settled into the lot they’d been given, Skye was assigned to labor duty. It was decided that this would keep her out of trouble. All it did was give her time to think while she toiled away at various manual labor jobs she was thrust into. She organized what she could of those inside the zone but the vetting of trustworthy conspirators was slow going and terrifying, to say the least. 

Seven weeks after she had been taken, Skye returned home to the apartment building to find Alisha, curled up on the ground in tattered clothes, matted hair and soaking wet from who knew how many hours out in the rain where she had be presumably dumped by some Peace Council thugs. Alisha had let out wild screams of fear every time anyone approached her. It took Skye an hour to snap Alisha out of it enough to get the woman to let her and Aaron carry her up to the apartment. Skye had very carefully helped Alisha clean up, tended to her wounds and was brushing her hair when she noticed the implants. Just behind Alisha’s ears there were implants with the Peace Council’s Science division logo on them (as far as Skye was concerned, it might as well have been a Hydra symbol). She knew at once that this was the closest they had come to putting a leash on Alisha’s powers the way they had to Skye with the gauntlets. The problem was that something had interacted in her brain and wires had gotten crossed. Instead of Alisha’s mind splitting off and her being able to project a copy of herself, any attempts to create a copy and split her off shorted her out briefly, having activated shocks from her implants and left her unconscious. When she awoke she found herself with another extra voice in her head. She spent most of her time now huddled in a corner of her room murmuring to herself. Most of her conversations with Skye were disjointed and ended with Alisha trying desperately to tell Skye something that Skye just couldn’t seem to get. 

Skye had done all she could to get Jemma all the information possible on the devices but so far Jemma and Fitz hadn’t been able to figure out a way to disable the implants without potentially throwing Alisha into a vegetative state. 

Skye sat down cross-legged in front of Alisha and put the food and water in her lap. “How was your day today?” she lifted her hand and made sure Alisha could see and track it as she reached out to rest it very gently on Alisha’s closest knee. She felt helpless, watching Alisha unravel the way she had been. She had been trapped in her own head for over a year. Skye felt responsible for what happened to Alisha and Lincoln. They wouldn’t have been inside the Dome of Doom if it wasn’t for Skye. 

“Too cold to stroll,” Alisha murmured, rocking slightly in her spot. She didn’t push Skye’s hand away, though and Skye considered that a win. 

“Did you go outside?” Skye asked in surprise. 

Alisha looked up from her knees to look at Skye. She didn’t answer her, just stared intently. Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked into Skye’s eyes. Slowly she reached a hand up to touch Skye’s temple. She remained quiet. 

Skye fought off a frown. “I brought you some food,” She spoke softly. “Are you hungry?”

“You’re full,” Alisha murmured. A slow smile curled her lips. Skye’s brow furrowed slightly. Did she know Skye had gone to meet with Jemma? 

“I’m full? Nah, but I brought something to fill  _ you  _ up,” She picked up the round loaf of bread. She knew this particular loaf was Alisha’s favorite whenever she brought it home from the pathetic excuse for a bakery that they allowed in the zone. Most of the shops were a farce, not because of the assigned shopkeepers’ faults but because they purposefully choked and stalled supplies from getting in. 

Alisha’s eyes widened when she saw the bread. She reached out to take it, then stopped and looked at Skye again. Skye nodded and held the bread closer to her. Alisha took the loaf into her hands. She brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply. 

“This too,” Skye set the tuna, the spoon and the water bottle down next to Alisha. “Jasmine and Aaron are gonna eat dinner with us tonight. I can save it for later if you want to eat with us?” 

Alisha looked down at the bread in her hands and then shook her head ‘no’ in response. 

“Okay,” Skye reached out and ran her hand gently over Alisha’s hair as she moved to crouch instead of sit. She leaned over and kissed the top of Alisha’s head. “I’m gonna leave your door open, in case you change your mind, alright?” she asked. Instead of nodding, Alisha reached one hand out free from the loaf of bread and wrapped it around Skye’s neck to hug her. Skye froze for a moment and then wrapped her arms loosely around Alisha. “It’s okay, honey...my promise still stands. It’s okay,” she would get those damn implants off of Alisha and give her back her life.

“Soon,” Alisha whispered. She was quiet for a long moment and then she turned her head and kissed Skye’s cheek. “Soon.” Alisha let Skye go and leaned back against the wall, holding the bread close to her face and smelling it again. 

Skye felt a shiver roll down her spine. What did Alisha mean by that? “Yeah,” she nodded. “Soon.” She gave Alisha’s shoulder a squeeze and then rose to her feet to head back out to the kitchen. 

“What didja find, Jazz?” Skye asked once she made it to the kitchen to get down to making whatever she could for dinner. 

\--

Out of a meager smattering of tuna fish packages (two large foil packs), potatoes (4, with eyes cut off of them), eggs (her and Alisha’s last two), milk (the last cup before it would go sour) and cheese (4 kraft single type slices peeled from their plastic packages) and some salt and pepper, Skye and Jasmine made a tuna casserole. It took a lot, to explain away how she had come about the tuna packages. Skye told her that she came across some lucky finds on her day off that she had traded for some goodies, including one she promised she would share with Jasmine for dessert later as thanks for her excellent help making dinner. 

Aaron arrived just as Skye was grabbing plates and a spoon to start serving up portions of the dish. She wished she had vegetables of some kind to serve with it, if for no other reason than to put them on Jasmine’s plate to fill her up more with a full, decent meal. But this? This was a feast compared to normal fare and Skye comforted her conscience, at least as far as Aaron and Jasmine were concerned, with this fact. 

“It smells yummy!” Jasmine declared. 

Skye smiled. “Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells,” she grinned and then heard the knock at the door. Skye tensed and looked over at the clock. It was probably Aaron, just getting home and seeing the note. Still, she tensed up. Jasmine made to break off for the door but Skye stopped her. “Ohhhh no ya don’t missy! Come sit down and eat before it gets cold,” she scooped one last large spoonful on Jasmine’s plate to make sure she had a decent sized portion of the food. Putting the plate on the table and patted the seat as she put a spoon into the food and waved Jasmine over. “You’re my official taste tester!” She winked and gave Jasmine’s shoulder a pat before she headed toward the door. 

Steeling herself with a deep breath, she leaned up and looked through the peephole. She exhaled a discreet sigh when she spotted Aaron on the other side of the door. Flipping the lock, she pulled the door open and stepped back with a warm smile. “You’re just in time,” She let her eyes roam over the weary man. He had lost a good deal of the muscle he had had when he entered the zone despite the fact that he worked hard labor duty. He seemed like he had no new injuries that she could see. 

Aaron tugged off his knit cap and gloves as he stepped through the threshold. “It smells great in here,” He gave a glance to the table at Jasmine, who was enthusiastically digging into her food. 

“HI DADDY!” She said around a mouthful of food, swinging her legs at the table as she ate. 

Aaron flashed his daughter a brilliant smile. “Hi, Sweetheart,” he said. As Jasmine turned back to her meal, Aaron turned to look at Skye again as Skye shut the door behind him and locked it. “Thanks for looking after her…” Aaron hated leaving in the morning and not knowing if Jasmine would be looked after. Some days Jasmine spent the day inside Skye and Alisha’s apartment when it was too cold to go outside. Today Skye thought it was too cold but Jasmine had felt compelled to go call. 

Skye gave him a small wave of her hand. “Ahh, please. She looked after me,” She assured. “C’mon, make yourself at home, go sit with Jazz, I’ll make up a plate,” She gave him a gentle clap on the shoulder and nodded for the small dining room table. 

Once the three were settled around the table, they dug in. Aaron asked about Alisha and they spoke in vague, coded comments to keep Jasmine from overhearing too much or becoming too curious. After a quick conversation about work, about Alisha and about goings on in the neighborhood, they shifted their conversation to the meal and what Jasmine did during the day after she had gone to one of the first floor neighbors’ houses for her daily schooling lessons. It was almost domestic. Skye put a smile on and tried to let the moment be light. Nothing ever felt right after she returned from a visit with Jemma. Not, of course, that things felt like they were right before their visits either. This just all felt wrong, always and all the time.

If Skye was going to have a domestic set up of some kind, it should have been with Jemma, somewhere safe where they could be happy. Skye tried not to dwell on it so that she could give Aaron and Jasmine relief from the normal gloom and doom of their reality. She ate a small amount of food so that she could make sure Aaron and Jasmine got their complete fill out of the meal. After she and Aaron cleaned up from dinner, she sent them home with the leftovers and with half the bag of skittles. She saved the rest of them for later so she’d have something to give Jasmine as a special treat later on. Aaron spotted the new jacket but he didn’t say anything to either Jasmine or Skye. He knew Skye would find a way to talk around it or brush it off. He simply thanked her and said goodnight. 

Once Skye watched them head into their apartment, she shut and locked the apartment door and then headed to Alisha’s room to clean up from her meal. After attempting another short talk with Alisha, Skye left her to settle into her own night and headed to the bathroom. She used just enough water to clean her face and hair up. After she dried her hair, she tugged the new thermals and boot socks back on and went out to the living room/kitchen area to make sure the fireplace embers were fully out and make one last sweep of the apartment. She headed back to her room and finally eased herself down into her bed, which was just a set of mattresses on the floor with some old, beat up covers. 

Lying on her back, her hands tucked under her head, Skye let her eyes slowly adjust to the blackness of the room surrounding her. If she would have let it, the almost full moon that had risen tonight would light through the heavy curtains of her bedroom window but Skye was too cautious for that. She didn’t need to give anyone a clear sniper shot of her. She knew the thought was paranoid but she had seen a lot in her time in the zone - before and after the Blitz and lockdown. It didn’t pay to take any chances. Despite knowing this...she still found it impossible to cut off her meetings with Jemma. Jemma was her lifeblood, her pulse - Jemma was her heartbeat. Without Jemma, Skye had no clear goal. She knew that what went on in this hell hole was wrong. She knew she had to fight against it. She knew this was her lot in life. Knowing all of that and not having Jemma to fall back on, to boost her morale, to remind her that this would be over one day soon if they kept chipping away at the Peace Council, if they kept showing the world what was really going on inside the zone. 

Skye’s thoughts wandered to everything that had happened since Coulson had assigned her this mission. So much had been lost. Little had been gained. Humans - ‘enhanced’ or not - had a remarkable capacity for selfishness in times of desperation. There were, of course, people who would go above and beyond the call to action and Skye had nothing but respect for them. But the depths of depravity that humans could sink to when they were trapped like rats being given just enough to survive but not nearly enough to thrive...it was astonishing and more than a little disheartening. When she was faced with showcase after showcase of the kinds of human beings - among the Peace Council guards, the Inhuman population or the population at large outside the zone - that evolved from the deprivation of normalcy, Skye often tried to let Coulson’s voice enter her mind. She let his old sayings, advice, words of wisdoms and terrible Dad jokes filter into the back of her mind, let them remind her that it didn’t matter what others did when the world was falling about around them; It mattered what  _ she _ chose to do in those moments when it was bleak and dark, when it felt hopeless. It mattered that she had the strength and courage to continue on, to insist that human beings were worthy of surviving themselves. 

Sometimes, however fleeting they might be, Skye gave into her despair at having lost Coulson. If he were alive, she was sure they would have come up with a plan, a revolt, a way to convince the world that they had to fight for their brethren in the zone so that all part of humanity could be united once more - Coulson would have found a way to convince the world to work together. Skye could not fill his shoes. She didn’t have that spark that he had, the conviction that differing groups of people, regardless of whatever their differences were, could work together - that they could cohabitate and together they could keep the foulest, most evil defects of humanity at bay. Skye didn’t quite have that spark anymore. She used to, long ago. It had been snuffed out, slowly at first and then all at once when she watched the life drain from Coulson’s eyes. Now that spark, it existed as a ghost, flickering in the wind and rain, trying in vain to build itself up. It was Coulson’s spark. Skye was merely trying to fan it into a flame and keep the fire burning until it spread into an irrepressible wildfire that could ignite the world and bring it back to sanity. 

Skye closed her eyes and exhaled a long, slow breath. If she could shelter the spark for just one more day, she told herself this every night when the invasive thoughts threatened to explode into full fledged insomnia, just for one day longer, then things would change. They could beat them. They  _ would _ beat them, if they could just hold out...just for a little bit longer. 

Skye rolled onto her side and ran her fingers over the space in the bed where Jemma would have been if they were together. Nights were the hardest. It was hard to want to sleep even when she was weary right down to the marrow of her bones. The night was quiet, dark and cold. Tonight it wasn’t physically cold thanks to Jemma’s heated thermals gift, but it was always cold in other ways, some of which Skye could barely describe for herself. It was an emptiness, a void that she knew couldn’t be filled with anything but the person whose absence caused it. It was a void, lonely and vast, that engulfed her, winding its way into her mind, preying on her insecurities. Jemma was safe outside the zone. Jack and Parker would be able to afford some medicine for Parker. Jasmine, Alisha and Aaron had full stomachs tonight. They’d have clean water at least for the next few months. It didn’t make up for all the other wrongs going on around her, but Skye could bolster her morale with these facts. She could close her eyes and almost inhale Jemma’s scent through her nose again. She could imagine Jemma’s memorized face, all the freckles, the curves, the crooks, the angles, the warmth. She could almost hear Jemma’s whispered reassurances, her dulcet tones attempting to lull Skye into restful sleep. 

“G’night, Jems,” Skye whispered into the void, “I love you.” 

 


	6. Caduceus Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** Graphic violence.   
>  \---  
> Thought I might as well give you some more since it's been so long since I've posted and since I was on a roll with finishing up chapters! Enjoy!   
> <3   
> \---  
> PS - skimmonsfiction if you're still reading this (I hope soooo!), look!! My tumblr phone notification did a thing that I agree with!!!:   
> http://i.imgur.com/GMyHRwF.png   
> Ha! :D
> 
> \--------------------

Skye woke in the morning when Alisha shook her. Even if the implants were affecting her mental faculties, Alisha was a damned good alarm clock. Skye would never know how she managed it with all the voices in her head, but Alisha seemed to still have a strong internal clock. It worked out well for Skye that this was the case since it was nearly impossible to tell when it was morning in her room thanks to the blackout curtains. Skye inhaled a sharp breath when Alisha shook her shoulder. Momentarily startled, Skye’s eyes popped open and slowly focused from their morning blur to reveal Alisha kneeling at the side of her bed with a small crooked smile on her face.

“Morning,” Skye sighed and threw a hand up to rub at the crust in the corners of her tired eyes. She shifted under her covers and curved her back to crack what she could of her spine and stretch her legs. “Time is it? What’re you doing up?” Skye asked in a murmur between yawns.

“John Henry,” Alisha said. Skye looked up in time to see Alisha miming sw inging a hammer as if driving a railroad spike into the ground like John Henry would have. Over the last couple of years, Skye had been assigned quite a few different hard labor jobs, mostly of the construction variety. Alisha referred to them as John Henr y. Skye rarely had energy for much of anything when she returned home from anywhere from ten to fifteen hours of work.

Skye groaned as she moved to sit up. “Yeah,” she sighed. “John Henry,” she nodded.

Alisha smiled, glad she was correct. She picked up a t ray from the floor that Skye hadn’t seen and held it out. “Eat,” She said. Skye blinked. She looked at the tray and spotted the last pack pf pop tarts she had hoarded from her visit with Jemma a few weeks ago, a small can of Deviled Ham spread, open with a spoon stuck in it and a pile of five saltine crackers stacked next to it. A bottle of filtered water sat in the corner too.

Skye arched her eyebrows. “Did you seriously make me breakfast in bed?” She asked. Alisha just grinned at her and Skye chuckled. “H ave you eaten already?” Skye asked as she moved to toss her covers aside. She shifted and curled her legs together to get them out of the way. Alisha shook her head and Skye patted the bed. “Then come sit down and share it with me,” she said.

Alisha set th e tray down between them and sat down on the bed across from Skye. Skye watched her carefully as they split the small amount of food between them. She wanted to ask Alisha how she was feeling. This was possibly the most cognitive she had seen the red head  in a while though and she didn’t want to jinx it. She wanted Alisha to be able to enjoy whatever she could out of a ‘good’ day when there were so many terrible days between them.

\--

After their meal, Alisha cleaned up and Skye slipped into the bathroom to  get ready for work. She pulled her thermals and boot socks on and clicked their warmer buttons to turn them on. She might be able to turn them off while working but the walk to and from the work site would be cold. She tugged on a thicker work thermal over the warmer shirt and tucked  both into the warmer thermals’ waistband before she pulled on her work  pants. She tucked her pant cuffs into her boots and tied them and then carried her flannel button down shirt and her knit cap out to the  living room with he r. There came a knock at the door as she was buttoning her shirt and before Skye could go check the peephole, Alisha was already unlocking the chain lock and dead bolt and tugged the door open. Jasmine sprung through the doorway as soon as it was open enou gh.  

“HI LISHA!” She wrapped her arms around Alisha’s waist, charging so fast that Alisha staggered back a step or so. Alisha was smiling as she returned the girl’s hug and patted her head affectionately.

Skye’s muscles relaxed, first at the fact that Ali sha didn’t panic at the sudden touch and second that it was just  Jazz and Aaron. Aaron chuckled as he stepped through the door that Alisha held open.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Aaron crouched and earned a hug and a kiss from his daughter. “You be good today and s tay inside, alright?” Jasmine pouted. Aaron arched his eyebrows and tilted is head as he gave her a stern look.

“Okay, Daddy,” She agreed finally.

Aaron beamed a big affectionate smile at her. “That’s my girl.” He kissed her cheek and looked at Skye as he  stood up. “We should get going. Don’t want to get harassed for being late,” He said.

Skye tucked her shirt into her pants and fastened her belt. She tugged on her jacket, knit cap and gloves and stooped to drop a kiss to the top of Jasmine’s head on the wa y by. “You girls stay out of trouble, now,” she teased with a smile. Jasmine and Alisha both waved as they left. Aaron looked over his shoulder toward the apartment door as they walked, waiting for the sounds of the locks on the door as Alisha fastened the m.

“Rumor mill’s pretty rampant lately,” Skye said as they took the stairs down to the lobby and made their way outside. Skye flipped her collar up and pulled the zipper on her jacket so it was completely zipped up. Aaron grunted an affirmative sound in re ply. “They’re starting with the oldest,” Skye said. The Peace Council had passed a resolution, stating that they were ramping up their attempts to study their engineered cure on the Inhumans. They claimed they were going to start with volunteers aged Fifty -five and older. In reality, they had gone through neighborhoods, square blocks by square blocks, rounding up everyone that met their age requirement. According to the word being spread around, not a single person who had been taken had been returned. “Wor d is they’re going to the youngest, next…” Skye frowned. There were numerous quick hiding spaces, tried and tested, in the apartment that Alisha could quickly hide Jasmine in if needed, but Skye knew that would be the last thing Alisha ever did, if it came to it.

“They’re going to euthanize us all,” Aaron murmured with a frown, glancing around as he shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the biting cold of the wind on their walk.

Skye had no argument to Aaron’s statement. He was right. The Peace Council’s real goal was clear; make weapons out of the ones that allow us to brainwash them, destroy the competition and wash hands of situation. “They’re not going to get her,” Skye said. Aaron looked over at her, anger etched into the g aunt angles of his face. “I will not let them hurt her,” Skye said before he could speak. Aaron searched her face, for what, Skye didn’t know. He must have found it though because he grunted and turned his eyes ahead once more. They walked in silence to th eir assigned work detail check-in and were put to work almost as immediately as they had arrived.

\--

“Why would you even design it like that?” Fitz asked. He was frowning at her, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Jemma scowled at him. “Are you questioning my scientific method?”

“Ummmmmm….yes,” Fitz swung his hands about and the holotable in front of them went through a flurry of activity before it ended on the molecular structure of the solution Jemma had been working on since May had assigned the project to  her the day after her last visit with Skye. “It doesn’t even make sense – even I can see that.” Jemma scoffed at him and Fitz frowned at her. “It’s unstable. It’s almost as if you’ve done it on purpose so that it can’t-,”

Jemma scoffed at him again. “Now y ou’re questioning my integrity, too?” She asked, feigning as much offense as she possibly could.

Fitz frowned at her. He stepped closer. “I don’t know what you’re playing at,” He whispered to Jemma before glancing to the door of the lab they were in. He lo oked back over at her. “But if you’re going to, sabotage,” he mouthed out that word rather than saying it aloud, “a project that the director gave you, making it this obvious will surely get you sent to a firing squad,” He whispered harshly.

Jemma blinked  at him. What could she even say to Fitz when he was calling her on her project? She wasn’t permitted to discuss the details of the project per May’s orders. May’s orders had given her a file that was three inches thick and included everything May had on th e serum that was being touted as the ‘cure’ for the so-called ‘Inhuman problem.’ Jemma had no idea why May was giving it to her and had been nearly sweating in her seat. She had flipped the file open immediately and had struggled to keep from panicking at  the shear amount of poisonous chemicals mixed into the so-called ‘cure.’ She had blurted out an unstoppable, ‘No wonder they’re dropping dead upon injection!’ before she could stop herself and then had sunk in her seat when May had arched an eyebrow up at  her. May had given her a sealed lock box of samples and explicit instructions to see what she could make of the serum and to see what she could do to manufacture some kind of serum that could temporarily ‘cure,’ Inhumans for long enough of a period that th e genetic tracers would be absent upon testing. Jemma had gaped at her, unsure what had spurred this idea on.

She hadn’t noticed, until she was leaving May’s office (Coulson’s former office) and May had switched them off, but May had actually had Skye’s sc ramblers up and running  while Jemma had been in her office. Jemma had no idea what kind of ruse this was and she had been panicking for weeks now that May had found out about her visits to Skye. She had been too

scared to do anything but work eighteen to t wenty hour days in the lab. Bobbi had to frequently and sometimes forcefully drag Jemma back to her room to take a nap for a few hours. Jemma couldn’t even tell Bobbi about the assignment. She was too afraid that May would catch wind that she was blabbing  about it and would take the project away.

The solution samples she had been given were extremely toxic, to humans and Inhumans alike. Jemma had immediately known from pouring over the paperwork that there was no way to rework the formula to something  usable. It was a bioweapon. There was no other way to describe it. Jemma also didn’t have the resources at her disposal to seriously come up with a solution like May was looking for without it being blatantly obvious. She planned to tell May this at their  meeting in a few hours but she needed something to show other scientists and ‘supervisors’ in the meantime so that she had a cover story for what she was working on. Thankfully none of them had been as smart as Fitz since most of them were management types that didn’t have degrees anywhere near Jemma’s caliber and had just had their noses browned up the right butts to get assigned to their current promotions.

Fitz opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Bobbi came around the frame of the lab’s door  and Jemma had to physically and mentally resist her urge to flick her wrist to swap out the display on the holotable with something else she had been working on earlier.

“Hey, Simmons, I was wondering if you could help me with-,” Bobbi cut off after lookin g up from the open file in her hands that she was rifling through. “Oh,” She smiled. “Hey Fitz,” She looked back and forth between the two of them. It was obvious they had been arguing by the strain in the muscles of both their expressions. “Sorry, I didn’ t mean to interrupt,” she said.

“No, no, not at all,” Jemma forced a bright, fake, smile onto her face. “Fitz was just finishing up a look at the project May’s assigned me to,” she said. Bobbi arched her eyebrows and nodded slowly.

Fitz sighed.  “Right. Sec ret girl-science time now. No Fitz allowed,” He gave his head a not. He looked at Jemma. “It’s unstable,” he indicated the holotable before he started for the door of the lab. Jemma had to physically bite her tongue to keep from slinging a sarcastic retort after him. Fitz didn’t have all the details. Jemma wasn’t allowed to give him all of them. He was right, though. The molecules were unstable. She needed to rearrange them. Once she could make them appear stable, she could actually begin working on somethi ng injectable that would make the  Inhuman cure appear to actually work to cure them instead of just being a sad, horrifying excuse for lethal injection. Jemma’s brow furrowed as she once again tried to figure out May’s true endgame goal.

Bobbi eyed the inf ormation displayed on the holotable. She had a great deal more  understanding of it than Fitz did, that was for sure. “He’s right,” Bobbi’s voice broke Jemma from her trance. Jemma blinked at her. Bobbi nodded to the table. “Mind?” she asked, pausing at the table and not moving to poke at or flick anything any which way without permission from Jemma.

Jemma cast an anxious glance at the table. Her teeth nibbled on the right corner of her bottom lip for a brief moment while Bobbi patiently waited on a response . Jemma acquiesced with a very small nod and then turned her attention to the table to watch Bobbi work.

“You don’t have to be so nervous,” Bobbi said as her fingers worked to send information into the table. 

“What?” Jemma blinked. She looked over at Bobb i. 

Bobbi didn’t take her eyes off of the monitor of the holotable as she tapped away at the parameters on the touchscreen pad along the side of the table. “I know what you’re doing here,” She said. Jemma opened her mouth to speak but Bobbi went on, “The m ission May gave you, I mean.” 

Jemma stammered. “I...I-I don’t...I mean, I can’t-,” 

“Steady Simmons,” Bobbi angled her head and arched her eyebrows as she briefly swept her eyes toward Jemma and then went back to the screen. “It was my idea.” 

Jemma blink ed.  “Y-Your idea?” She gaped at Bobbi. 

The right corner of Bobbi’s mouth twisted upward. “I thought of it a few weeks ago but couldn’t figure out all the logistics. I needed your half of the input,” She finished tapping. With a practiced flick of her wris t, she moved the newly fashioned molecule and its details to display on the table. 

Jemma’s eyes jumped from Bobbi to the information before her. He jaw dropped slack as she realized that Bobbi had reworked portions of the molecule that she had previously  be stuck on. She stepped closer to the table,  squinting her eyes to examine it. “You...You had this already prepared?” 

Bobbi took a side step closer to Jemma’s side. “‘Bout time we brought our girls home and got them into the fight proper. Wouldn’t you sa y?” She asked quietly. 

Jemma felt the burning prick in her eyes as they began to sting a bit with tears. “And…” she cleared her throat gently. “And May...she was okay with this plan?” 

Bobbi glanced over at Jemma. She picked up the stack of files she had  been carrying when she walked in, taking care to leave one specific one behind. “Of course she was,” She gave Jemma a wink. “Why wouldn’t she be?” She turned to go and then glanced over at the table. “I think you’ll find  it’s stable. The real question is , who do we test it on?” She arched her eyebrows up and then continued on her way. 

Jemma stared Bobbi. She turned back to the table and quickly began memorizing the molecule chain before her and its components, looking over the areas she had previously asse mbled incorrectly and marveling at the new structure before her. She saved multiple copies of the file and found her own notebook to jot down information. “This might actually work…” She murmured to herself. A moment later her stomach rumbled and Jemma sta rted to pack it in for the moment so she could steal away for a snack. That’s when she noticed the file that Bobbi had left behind. Jemma hesitated only a moment before she added the files to her bag and finished cleaning up and shutting down the lab befor e she left it. 

\--

Skye and Aaron trudged home in relative silence. Both were exhausted. Eyes cast wary glances along the road and the rooftops and trying to pick up the pace. It was dark already and Skye wanted to get them to the apartment building and in side without any trouble. Skye heaved a sigh of relief when they finally made to the steps of their building so she could see Aaron inside. 

“You’re not coming in?” Aaron asked. 

Skye looked at the building. She knew she should go inside but she had someth ing to do first. “I’m just going to stop in to check on Jack and Parker first,” She said. 

Aaron shrugged and gave her a nod. “If you’re not back in twenty-,” 

“Stay with Jazz and Alisha,” Skye cut him off to finish his sentence before she turned to walk d own the street. Aaron stepped inside and headed for Skye and Alisha’s apartment so he could check on Jasmine. 

Skye made it to the bakery and knocked on wooden door right next to it since the bakery itself was already closed. After a few long moments, Jack pulled the door open. “Hello, Skye,” He cast a wary glance past her since it was night time but gave her a small smile.  “Hard day?” He asked as he looked over her worn, disheveled appearance. 

“Long day,” She confirmed. “I wanted to stop by and see how yo u guys were doing. Haven’t been able to stop by the bakery with the hours they’ve given me lately,” She told him. 

“Come in, come in,” Jack stepped back. “Let’s get you something warm to drink and you can visit with Parker for a while.” He ushered her insi de, shut the door, flipped all four locks and put the bracing bar in place under the door handle. He turned and  swooped Skye to his side with an arm around her shoulders and started up the stairs to the apartment with her. 

“How’s he doing?” Skye asked as  they went. 

“A lot better since we’ve been able to get his medicine regularly,” Jack said. “He’s been up and around a lot more. Soon he’ll be well enough to get back to work before the deadline.” He gave her an enthusiastic smile. 

Skye smiled, tired but  relieved to hear Jack’s words. 

\--

Before she had gone into the zone, Skye had upgraded her laptop with some key features. First and foremost, she had made it accessible to one other sole person via heavy encryption and biometric fail safes. That person was Jemma. Jemma had discovered quickly that a number of the ways Skye had scoured the web and its darker corners before she had left had been neatly automated in locked programs that only Jemma could access. It meant that Jemma could look for whatever information Skye and her network of people were able to leak out as it became available before it wound up scrubbed away and, sometimes, even after it had been seemingly scrubbed away. 

Though most of the things she found were more than a little unnerving, Jemma was immensely grateful for the wealth of information Skye had opened up to her. It kept her motivated – not that the sole goal of pulling Skye out of the zone alone wasn’t motivation enough but the extra fuel stoked the fire higher to urge Jemma on to working longer, harder and faster every day. 

The laptop was also filled with bittersweet reminders of what life together had been for them in the past. She knew there was no way back from here to the place the two of them had been together. There wasn’t a chance, even if they managed to free Skye, that they could go back to stealing away for dinner dates, taking silly selfies while strolling through the park, simply finding time do normal things like go to the movies or even just normal every day grocery shopping together. 

Everything would always be different. Jemma would always have a section of her mind that was saved for the happy slideshow of moments they had been given just enough time off to pretend they were normal everyday people, out on a date, spending time together, just being. She would also have a section of her mind that played through the compilation tape of all the times they’d watched each other nearly die, pulled the other back from the edge of a dark abyss, for the slowly wasting away image of Skye as a shell of her former self…restricted by the inhibiting gauntlets, by the doses of medication that could kill her at any moment, the scars that Skye had earned for no other reason than the fact that she existed and had been dealt a specific set of circumstances out of her own control in life. 

After Jemma had begun a few proper lab tests between the compound that had been created and various Inhuman blood samples, Skye’s among them, she compiled a preliminary report for May to let her know she would need time passed the prearranged ‘deadline’ of sorts now that a compound was in play to be able to test the compound to ensure it was not lethal. After turning that over and setting her test specimens for overnight observation, Jemma made herself some tea and heated up a microwaveable container of soup before she retired to her room. She set up the appropriate maglocks to ensure she wouldn’t be interrupted and went about her other regular routines. First and foremost she set the scramblers working so no one could spy on her as she spent the night researching. She set a small load of dirty laundry going in the washer. She tidied up the main part of the room. She sat at the small round table with two chairs that previously made up her and Skye’s eating space for breakfast and on nights they made it to their room together for such things. She thoroughly combed through the details of the file Bobbi had ‘accidentally’ left behind as she sipped on her tea and slowly ate her chicken and vegetable soup.

With mountains of data floating through her mind, Jemma eventually moved her laundry from the washer to the dryer (or hung up anything that was line dry on a rack), slipped into her bathroom for a shower and finally settled in bed in her pajamas to watch through some old videos of her and Skye. Some of them were files she had moved onto the computer from her phone. Before this mess had started, Skye would send Jemma random video texts, for no real reason other than ‘just because,’ and without any prompting. Some of them were based off of knowing Jemma was having a bad day. Some of them merely contained little messages of offhand listings of the things Skye loved about Jemma. Sometimes  Skye sent her vid eos of whomever else of their fellow team members  she happened to be with at the time  without them realizing she was filming them. All of them had either made Jemma laugh or swoon or, sometimes, both. Now they made her do those things but they also made her cry. 

In an effort to distract herself from the growing pit of dread and worry in her stomach, she moved on to running some of Skye’s automated skimmers to pick up on information and videos pertaining to the zone and what was going on inside. And that’s when she discovered the information  about a classified  order tha t had been officially enacted. 

 

Caduceus Resolution

In accordance with the  Sovereign Inhuman Nationals Suffrage Initiative (SINSI), previously ratified by the Un ited Nations under the Sokovia A ccords and in conjunction with the officially sanctioned global task force The International Peace Council (IPC) with oversight from ambassadors affiliated with The United Nations Security Council (UNSC), The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), The World Health Organization (WHO), the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR), as w ell as representatives from The Human Genome Organization (HUGO), The National Institutes of Health (NIH) and the International Medical Corps (IMC), the Caduceus Resolution seeks to implement a strategic program des igned to eradicate all known and treatable  infectious diseases and maladies currently afflicting the inhabitants within the SINSI Enhanced Humans Zone located inside the boarders of Belarus . Previous ly ratified and provided UNSC approved resolutions are to be utilized and executed by the IPC as instructed per the guidelines issued by the WHO. Implementation of the Caduceus Resolution has been sanctioned to commence  immediately upon receipt of directive documentation by the Director of the IPC. 

Jemma’s e yes scanned over every single word and punctuation in the allegedly classified ‘top secret’ documents that the skimmers brought her. With each convoluted winding sentenc e, her eyes widened and her heart dropped further into the widening pit  or fear  in her gut. Some of the organizations listed were not typically organizations that Jemma would  have associated with the kind of resolution that she was reading through so she knew that the true details of the program had to have been kept hidden from those organizations’ representatives. As she began to sift through more and more of the instructions on  how  the IPC was to carry out the program, it became clearer than simply reading between the lines that ‘eradicate all known and treatable infectious diseases and maladies currently afflicting the inhabitants ’ actually meant ‘eradicated all Inhumans/Enhanced Individuals as they are infectious diseases and maladies.’

Jemma stared at the dates on the pages and realized that the program was already in play. That meant the Peace Council was in the process of rounding up and exterminating Inhumans inside the zone as if they wer e operating out of the original Nazi SS handbook for The Final Solution . The details stirred panic within Jemma that she struggled to contain so that she could attempt to assess the situation rationally . She had to find a way to stop this. Who could she get to help her? Bobbi. She could consult Bobbi. Bobbi would be able to create a plan for them.  But what about May? Could she trust May? May and Bobbi had been working together on the plan that Bobbi had constructed with the sole purpose of pulling Skye and Alisha out of the zone. Did that mean that May could be trusted with this information or did May already know about it? Had she been part of approving it or designing it? 

Jemma grabbed her  phone and sent an urgent (and encrypted thanks to Skye’s programs) message to Bobbi, telling her to come meet her as soon as physically possible. As soon as she put the phone down, she immediately began saving careful backup copies of the information from the skimmers while trying to think of the ways Skye would have made sure they were published through as many outlets as possible, dissected and explained for any and every lay person to understand what was really happening; mass extermination. 

\--

After insisting to both Jack and Parker that she could make it back to her apartment building on her own (it was only  three blocks away, she had insisted ), Skye left through the apartment door she had come in. She gave a wave to the peephole after listening as Jack reset all the locks and the bracing bar. She tugged her hood up over her knit hat covered head and braced against the bitter winds as she began walking. She kept her pace as quick as her weak, strained muscles would allow, mentally praising Jemma the whole way for having smuggled her warming long johns int o the zone for her. They were  truly useful and comforting and they helped make it so that Skye’s attention could be focused on carefully watching her back for any roaming Peace Council  guards looking to let off some steam and to keep an eye on the rooftop officers that patrolled around the clock. 

She  was just over a block away from the front door of her apartment building when she hear d a scream that made the warm blood in her veins curdle with fear. It was the piercing high pitched wail of a child. Skye’s head snapped from where she had been checking down the alley for any surprise lurkers to the front of her apartment building. Eyes wide and wild with fear, she watched as a large body was thrown down the front steps of the apartment building and realized immediately that it was Aaron.

As Aaron tried to draw to his feet, even from the distance she was at, Skye could see blood soaking much of his torso and dripping in long globs to the concrete below him. Steam rose from his head and from his  wounds in thick wafts of fog as his body heat escaped with the ruddy liquid. A Peace Council guard dragged Jasmine out of the building by a rough handful of her hair and Aaron lunged for them. Skye was already running by the time she spotted the bolt of blue electricity as it crackled from the end of the guard’s fingertips and collided with Aaron’s body, sending him to the ground in splattering convulsions. Jasmine’s shrill sob-laced screams pierced the darkness of the night surrounding them and earned  her a backhand to the mouth strong enough to send the girl sailing to the ground over the stone half  wall of the stairs  behind her. 

With her fists balled up tight and her wrists locked, Skye was in the air the moment she was close enough. As her fist, then elbow, collided with the closest guard’s face and sent him sprawling to the broken concrete steps, her feet swung  through the air as she twisted and collided with  the guard attacking Aaron’s chest. The blow threw him almost four feet down the pavement and knocked his unhooked protective helmet right off his head. Skye  didn’t need the helmet removed to know who the guard was so she  paid no mind to him while he struggled to get up because there were two other guards to incapacitate . She swung her arm around one’s neck and used the leverage of her quick  momentum to swing another kick at the last remaining guard. It knocked the guard to the ground and brought her around the back of the guard she had by the neck and she quickly locked her arms to cut off his air supply while using him as a shield for any immediate firearm retaliation. 

As the guard in her fierce grip struggled to break free, Skye dragged him backward toward where Jasmine had landed. “Jazz – are you okay??” She heard the little girl  whimpering and when she made it around the edge of the concrete steps, she spotted Jazz sitting in the corner of the wall and the edge of the concrete siding of the stairs, knees hugged tightly to her chest and the side of her head bleeding. A tsunami of rage rippled through Skye. Her muscles tightened around the guard’s neck as she saw red and she no longer considered merely knocking him out. She continued to choke the life out of him as she assessed the situation before her for her next move. She looked to the rooftops and realized that the sniper lookouts for at least two blocks in either direction had been cleared out. 

Turning as Lincoln climbed to his feet, coughing from the blow to his chest that Skye had delivered; Skye could feel the twitch in her eyelid  and the itch in her limbs to drop the guard she was holding and immediately attack the cowardly traitor before her . 

“Skye,” Lincoln  sung out her name in a falsely sweet tone as he slowly  advanced toward her , feeling the situation out while he stalked his prey . “How lovely to see you again,” He  cast a wicked smile in her direction as he walked with his arms bent at the elbows, palms up toward the sky with his fingers curled slightly as he let small arcs of electricity crackle and pop from his palms. He rotated his head to swivel it around his shoulders to crack his neck. 

On the ground behind him, Aaron’s body convulsed and twitched. He alternated coughing and trying to roll to his side  while choking on the accumulation of his own blood in his throat. Skye could see, now, that hooped portions of his bowels had seeped through ghastly  openings in his abdomen. She had known before she had started running that Aaron was likely a goner. “P-Promise…” Aaron stammered the burbled word with every breath he could force, hoping Skye would hear him and know what he meant. She had promised that she wouldn’t let them hurt Jasmine. Seeing the agony they had put him through while he still fought to protect his daughter took Skye’s breath away. She felt the guard in her arms as he started sinking into d ead weight from lack of oxygen, pulling heavily against muscles that screamed in pain at their overuse after being neglected for so long.

“Ask  yourself , Skye,” Lincoln’s voice was calm and even, jovial in nature as he smirked at her , challenge gleaming in his eyes . She wanted to tear him limb from limb and feed his torso to wild animals while he was still conscious and breathing. “Is your life really worth theirs?” He arched his right eyebrow at her.  “Hm?”

“Before this is through,” Skye practically growled the words as her teeth ground tightly together. “I’m going to kill you,” she swore. 

“ Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk,” Lincoln clicked his tongue and heaved a dramatic sigh. “I’m just doing my job, Skye – bringing fugitives in under section one point four-nine-seven -,” 

“She’s a  child !” Skye interrupted him with a furious howl of words. 

“According to the accords…she’s a monster,” He sneered as he drew closer without actually touching her. “But she c ould be a useful one,” He murmured once she was closer. “She must be collected, tagged and shipped off for repurposing. Those are my orders,” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I have no interest in bringing you in. You can still walk away from this. Let my buddy Jareth here go before you strangle him and you can walk on inside and tend to Alisha as usual. We’ll let bygones be bygones until my orders are to come for you…” 

Skye ground her teeth together. With a sickening snap, she twisted her arms and broke the guard in her  grip’s neck. She let go of him and he immediately slumped to the ground at her feet. “Now I’ m the fugitive,” She sneered at Lincoln, preparing for an attack from him or the other guards. “Come collect me,” She dared him. They could have easily shot her, she knew, and this wasn’t their first opportunity, but they didn’t, which meant they were keeping her alive for a reason. Skye didn’t have time to think about the  why; she only had time to react as Lincoln angled for Jasmine while the other two guards lunged at her for their attack.


	7. Before This Is Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** Violence. **EDITED TO ADD:** Per Panyan's advice, I'm editing my warning to inform fellow gentle souls - this chapter is, "disturbing as fuck and very vivid!" Proceed with caution if you must!!! 
> 
> Forgive me my typos as a lot of this one including the spelling/grammar check attempt were done on my phone! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, kudos and comments! <3
> 
> \---------------

Through the blinding fury, rushing adrenaline and the searing pain every time one of her multiple enemies landed a hit, Skye heard Jemma’s voice in her mind’s ear, “I wish we had all the time we wanted to just be us again,” Jemma had said when they’d last met. She could see the desperate expression on Jemma’s face in her mind’s eye, the one that Jemma had given her while pleading with her not to go into the zone, mission or no mission. She could see the despair on Jemma’s face when she had seen the wounds around Skye’s wrists that the inhibitor gauntlets caused. She could taste the promises she had made Jemma on the tip of her tongue as they began to meld with the salty, copper tinge of blood in her mouth from the fight she was currently engaged in.  
  
The fight was originally two on one; Skye had snapped the neck of the guard she had pulled in as a shield and hostage and the remaining two were sent after her while Lincoln went after Jasmine. Skye didn’t consciously choose any thoughts that filled her mind; she merely reacted as the situation escalated and came at her. Dodging a punch thrown at her, she kicked backward with one foot as hard as she could, kicking the guard farthest from her squarely in the chest and sending him sailing to the ground at the same time that she swung her fist and caught the other approaching guard in the Adam’s apple as he rushed toward her. Limbs spun, bodies tumbled and rolled, muscles flinched and clenched. Skye took some blows but dished out more than her fair share in return.    
  
Her first instinct as the first two guards went down sputtering and coughing was to launch herself onto Lincoln. She leapt onto his back and yanked his helmet off his head with enough force to snap the buckle that had been clasped under his skin. In the next instant, her arm was wrapped tight across his neck, her wrist tucked into the opposite elbow, which she bent and tightened, choking off Lincoln’s air supply. Before he could lose consciousness, he pitched forward and threw Skye over his shoulders. She landed on the ground on her back and saw stars a moment, heard Jasmine’s sobs of fear nearby to her left. She wanted to comfort the girl, to tell her everything would be alright but in the next moment, she was being dragged to her feet by her hair. Lincoln and Skye traded blows until he tired of the fight and sent her to her knees with an electrical jolt. He turned his back on her as she fell to the ground on all fours, arms shaking as they tried to keep holding her up, trying to gulp down air to catch her breath  
  
When she regained enough of her motor skills, she spun, leaning her weight on her hands and swept Lincoln’s legs out from under him from behind, watching as he landed on the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him. One of the other guards hauled her to her feet by the upper arm. Before she could swing her free arm, the other guard managed to grab her by it after she reeled back. Skye struggled in their grip but she was outmatched in size, weight and well-fed muscle. Their large sausage-sized fingers gripped her upper arms to the point of fierce pain, grips clamped down on wilted muscles and sinew, daring her to struggle. All of the noise drew numerous neighbors to their windows, peeking through curtains to see what was going on, though none of them ventured to help.  With part of her lip, one side of her nose and her temple bleeding down her face and chin, Skye continued to struggle against their hold as Lincoln slowly climbed to his feet with a sneer.  
  
Skye wanted to scream, wanted Jazz to run away while Skye had the three of them distracted. She knew it was a futile measure. They would use her tracker to find her and Skye hadn’t updated the spoofing coordinates on it recently enough to trust that it would protect the little girl. Lincoln wiped blood from his lip with the back of his gloved hand. He looked at it and then glared through his eyelashes at Skye. Skye ground her teeth together and considered what remaining options she had to get herself out of this jam long enough to get Jasmine to some kind of safety.  
  
Lincoln turned his hand over and sent up a small ball of blue bolts, crackling with electricity. The show of power failed to elicit fear in Skye though she knew that’s what he was going for. Instead, she ground her teeth together. “I’m not afraid of you,” She growled at him, sneering as he stepped closer as if repulsed by his proximity to her. Lincoln swung his hand forward, buried a surge of electrical jolts into her gut. Skye’s body collapsed to her knees. Though she refused to scream, she grunted in pain, grinding her teeth tightly together. She clenched her fists as the heat and pain licked fiery laps through her nerves, sucking all coherent thought out of her along with the wind it knocked away.  
  
“C-Coward!” Skye gasped between lurching attempted gulps for air as her muscles twitched, trying in vain to regain their base norm. “F-filthy… _traitor_!”  
  
“Pull her up!” Lincoln screamed, pink foamed spittle flew from the corners of his mouth as his fury mixed with the blood from his cut and surged from his lips with his words.  
  
The guards hauled Skye onto unsteady feet. She clenched her fists and gasped. Her head hung limply forward for a moment as her knees wobbled like overcooked spaghetti noodles under her. Her arm curled in the guard’s grip and her fingers tried to reach into her pocket as her chest and gut heaved, trying to catch her breath. Skye rolled her eyes up and stared at Lincoln through the sweated mat of hair and the blood in her vision.  
  
“Pathetic,” Skye gasped between gulps of air. “Coward…”  
  
“You could have taken the same deal I did,” Lincoln stepped closer leaned closer to her face, sneered at her in disgust. “Could have had free reign over your powers again, but no, you had to be a self-righteous bitch instead! What have these peons ever done for you, huh?! They got you locked in here because you were a convenient spy for Shield – lotta good that did ya, huh Skye?!” He swung and punched her in the mouth. Skye’s legs fell out from under her but the guards hauled her right back to her feet and held her aloft as she wavered.  
  
Skye’s fingers finally reached what they were looking for in her pocket, one of the tiny keychains Jemma had left her, the EMPs hidden as mini LED flashlights. She pushed her tongue out to the left side of her mouth, swiped it across the split that Lincoln had just enlarged with his last swing. She met his gaze through the haze in her vision, through the matted strands of her hair, sticking now in the bloody streams on her face. “Before this is through,” she took steady deep breaths. “I’m going to kill you,” She said with an eerie calmness that startled Lincoln.  
  
Past his shoulder, on the apartment building’s stoop, Skye’s bleary eyes spotted Alisha, swaying on her feet, bloodied and battered. It was clear they had beaten her and Skye knew they had likely had time to do more than just beat her when the attack came and Alisha had no doubt tried to protect Jasmine with herself. Their eyes met just before Alisha spotted Jazz and she immediately stumbled, angling toward the girl, wanting to get to her and get her safe, despite the mess in her brain she was cognizant enough of what was going on around her to know Jazz still needed protecting.  
  
_Jem, I love you_ , she thought to herself, as if she could transmit her last thoughts to the one person she loved most in this fucked up world. _I’m sorry_.  
  
Before Lincoln could recover and swing at her again, before the guards could acknowledge Alisha’s wobbly appearance, Skye’s fingers flipped the little lever on the side of the device lever, turning the flashlight into an active EMP. She pressed the activator button down with her thumb. As electronics within a 100 meter radius simultaneously sputtered and sparked before ceasing, all those with forced inhibitors attached within the radius, let out shrieking howls of pain, Skye, Jasmine and Alisha alike. Skye was already in motion when the pain from the jolt of the EMP hit her arms from the gauntlets. It shocked Lincoln but Skye was already swinging her legs, using the leverage provided from how tightly the guards held her, she swung her whole body upwards and threw her legs as high in the air as she could. Her boot caught him in the chin and swung his head upward and as they came back down, she clamped them around the sides of his head and against his shoulders. She wasn’t aware of the scream of pain she let out as the EMP surged her gauntlets and sent shockwaves of pain from fingertips to elbows.  
  
Lincoln grabbed her calves and tried to shock her free of his head and shoulders, the guards didn’t know what to do but didn’t drop her yet. Lincoln seemed to have shorted out as well; either that or Skye’s adrenaline had surged past the point of pain. He struggled against her and as the guards were starting to drop her, she caught sight of Aaron’s body lying gutted and still steaming in the cold of the night, his eyes staring up at the nothingness of darkened night sky above. She twisted her body, pulling Lincoln to the ground with her. Landing on her elbows, he landed on his knees and tried to shock her again. They struggled against each other and with one last howl of rage – rage at all that had been taken from her, at all the suffering she had witnessed, all the suffering she had endured at his hands and the hands of others, rage that this would be the last act she ever did – it all boiled within Skye’s belly in a furious agony. She twisted and, finally, with a loud crunching snap after just the right leverage and pressure, Lincoln’s neck snapped. She heard the last whoosh of air that escaped his lungs before they were both heaped on the ground.  
  
Skye tried to catch her breath. She scrambled to her feet as the guards split up and rushed, one toward Alisha and the other toward Jasmine. Skye could only go in one direction. Both Alisha and Jasmine were on the ground writhing in pain and holding both sides of their heads. Both of them had inhibitors implanted behind their ears and Skye knew the EMP had to have short circuited them. She didn’t know what effect this would have on those who had the inhibitors implanted on nervous systems or brains but she had had no choice. She made her next choice knowing Alisha would have understood, rushing to tackle the guard that was reaching for Jasmine.  
  
\--  
  
Jemma was back in the lab after a fitful couple of hours of trying to sleep. She rubbed her eyes and leaned on the end of the lab table, elbows on the edge of it, hands framing her face. She had multiple computers running various data streams, checking, double, triple and quadruple checking the numbers. If they were going to inject something into Skye, Jemma was going to make damn sure that it wasn’t going to kill her. Samples of the serum ran against samples of Skye’s blood and analyzed interactions. The molecule spun slowly on the holotable. Jemma had already done all that she could do, even with Bobbi’s and Fitz’s assistance. The only way they were going to know for sure was going to be once Skye was injected with it.  
  
She rubbed tiredly at her temples, trying her best to go over the details over and over and over again, looking for any issues they had missed, anything that could derail this plan. Fitz came in to check on her, having stopped by her room without finding her. She sent him away, insisting that she was fine and just wanted to keep working. He tried to stay, tried to help her a little longer but they couldn’t seem to come up with any loose ends that they hadn’t already been over. Jemma thought it was her tired brain that was making her miss something, but she simply couldn’t bring herself to go lie down in comfort, fully fed, with a warm bed to sleep in - _Skye’s old bed..._ ** _their_** _old bed_ , Jemma thought.   
  
Shortly after Fitz retreated from the lab, Jemma was back to rubbing her temples, resting her eyes closed for a few moments when a loud shrill alarm erupted from her cell phone on the edge of the lab table. The wild alarm went off as the phone buzzed and shudder across the table top. Jemma was standing upright on her feet immediately, spine snapping arrow straight, eyes bugging form their sockets, and jaw hung open in disbelief. For less than half a second, she stared at the phone and in the next moment she had snatched it from the table and raced from the office at the fastest speed her legs would carry her.  
  
“Whoa, Simmons, slow down!” Fitz said when she nearly knocked him over in the hallway. “Where’re you going?” He called after her.  
  
Jemma didn’t hear him. Her mind was focused on the alarm. She knew this particular alarm. This particular alarm meant trouble. It meant she needed to get into the zone and get to Skye immediately. This alarm was tied to the devices that she had given Skye, set to go off if she deployed one of the EMP devices. She had made Skye promise only to use them if she had no other choice. Skye was in danger. Skye was in immediate, dire danger.   
  
Jemma crashed through Bobbi’s bunk door but she wasn’t in her room. She ran, next, to the gym and skidded into the room. Bobbi hopped, mid-run, to the sides of the treadmill she was on as she slapped her hand down on the emergency stop button as Jemma shouted her name.  
  
“BOBBI!-,”   
  
“What is it??” Bobbi climbed down from the treadmill and came to a stop in front of Jemma, grabbing her by the upper arms to steady Jemma as the woman practically hyperventilated.   
  
“Alarm!” She held the phone up breathlessly.   
  
It took a moment for the puzzle pieces to slide into place and connect in Bobbi’s mind. She knew that alarm. She and Jemma had set up that alarm. Skye was in trouble. “Let’s go,” Bobbi turned and ran, trusting that Jemma was hot on her heels.   
  
  
  



	8. What's Your Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic violence 
> 
> Mobing right along before writer's block inevitably strikes agaaaain! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Thanks for any and all kudos, comments and love!!   
> <3
> 
> \--------

  
Skye was weak. The work load she was given inside the zone in combination with the meager rations were designed to keep the resident (Inhumans or otherwise), as weak as possible. Throw in the inhibitors and it was even worse. Cries had gone up all around the neighborhood after Skye had set off the EMP. Skye was too busy fighting the guard who had gone after Jazz to have realized what they meant. They stumbled about the broken concrete. She tried to look Alisha’s way to see how she was fairing in her own fight. Just as she caught sight of Alisha’s struggle on the stoop with the other guard, Alisha was standing next to the guard that Skye was fighting. Skye blinked. How had she…? Skye looked back over to the stoop and saw that Alisha was still fighting the guard.  _ The Inhibitors!  _ Skye thought. The dazed copy of Alisha stared at Skye and the guard for a moment, as if unsure that she was actually there, outside of the  _ real _ Alisha’s head.   
  
In the next moment, before the guard could get his hands around Skye’s neck, Alisha clone had kicked out at his knee, sending it snapping in the wrong direction. The guard collapsed to the ground with a scream. Behind Alisha, as alarms began to whirr all over the neighborhood, Skye spotted more guards rushing in. She had a split second to wonder where the snipers had disappeared to before soldiers were sighting them with their weapons and firing. Reflexively, a motion left over from when she could actually use her powers, Skye threw her hands up, palms out. Instead of being a fruitless effort, Skye felt a whoosh of relief as she felt the vibrations manipulated at her will, rushing down her arms and off her skin. There was another whoosh of air as she sent the wave out, stopping bullets in their tracks and, eventually, knocking the soldiers on their asses. She sent another wave at the guard the original Alisha was fighting and he sailed over the cement stoop and to the ground.   
  
“We have to move,” Both Alishas said at once.   
  
“Glad to have you back,” Skye said, her relief very slight and only momentary as she was already moving to collect Jazz. Jazz flailed, screaming and shrieking in fear as Skye touched her. “Jazz! It’s me! It’s Skye! Jazz, stop! Look at me!” She wanted to be gentle, wanted to take Jazz into her arms and rock her until she was cried out for her father. They only had a short amount of time before they had to be gone. There would be too many to fight otherwise. Jasmine seemed to realize that the person in front of her was a trusted friend and not a soldier. She stopped screaming and stared up at Skye, eyes wide and wild with fear, fat tears streaking her cheeks. “We have to go, honey, okay? We have to go, can you come with me?” Skye asked as she reached for Jazz again. This time the little girl latched onto her, arms and legs around her, clutching onto her.   
  
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Skye hoisted the girl into her arms and made sure to guide Jasmine’s face into the crook of her neck since they had to run by Aaron’s body. Though it was dark because of the EMP, Skye didn’t want the little girl to have to see her dad like that again. She had already seen enough. Skye and the Alishas ran, dodging guards as they went. Skye threw them when she could manage the power. Alisha fought them with duplicates when she could.   
  
The group of them became pinned down out front of the bakery. Skye knew she didn’t have enough force to send shockwaves in both directions along the street. Alisha’s clones were weak as well. They flickered in and out of sight as Alisha fought against her wounds and fatigue. There were a lot of them but Skye hadn’t been able to take stock. Frankly, she was afraid to.   
  
Both groups were advancing when suddenly the dozen or so soldiers on both sides of them all collapsed to their knees in various states of pain, screaming and sputtering as they rocked on the ground, holding their heads. Skye and the Alishas stared while Jazz sobbed into Skye’s shoulder.   
  
“What’re you waiting for, Jack? Get them out of here!” Parker called out from one of the apartment windows above the bakery. He sounded weak, labored in his task. Skye hadn’t realized how close to the bakery they had been when she had set off a second of the EMPs to take out as many electronics in the approaching cars and guards’ com links as she could. She looked up at the window, eyes shining with tears. This could likely be the last time she saw Parker. “Good luck,” He called to Skye and blew her a kiss before his attention was back on the soldiers as he made them writhe in pain. That’s when Skye remembered Parker’s previous power –  _ Psionic Blast _ ; ability to overload a person’s mind causing pain, memory loss, lack of consciousness, vegetative state or death.   
  
_ Thank you, Parker _ , Skye thought as she gave him a grateful nod, acknowledging the strain he put himself through, still ill and using powers that had been stunted for so long. Parker gave his head a nod to the side just as Jack burst through the doors from the doors of the bakery. “Follow me!” He called, immediately starting at a sprint down the block.   
  
Skye shared the briefest of glances with Alisha1 and they were off down the street in Jack’s wake.   
  
\--   
  
“What are you doing!?” Jemma screamed. She and Bobbi were in a stolen jeep, on a restricted road, with a backseat full of weaponry that could blow the whole thing to the heavens if a bullet struck at just the right angle. Jemma couldn’t die in an explosion en route. She needed to get to Skye. Right after they had stolen the jeep, Jemma’s phone had blared to life with another alert that a second EMP device had been set off by Skye. Her heart was jammed in her throat as they rocketed across uneven terrain on the Jeep’s off road tires, bouncing about the ruts and bumps, kicking up dirt, gravel and in some cases snow in their wake. They were currently headed right for a weak spot in one of the walls.   
  
“Quickest way inside,” Bobbi muttered. “Grab the wheel!”   
  
“ _ WHAT _ ?!” Jemma shrieked with wide eyes. She had no time to actually question Bobbi’s sanity as Bobbi grabbed something from the backseat and Jemma was forced to lean over and hold the wheel from spinning wildly back and forth.   
  
Bobbi was out of her seat, muscles taut as she steadied herself as the jeep bounced about. She aimed what looked like a modified handgun of some kind at the approaching wall and pulled the trigger. A node shot out of the gun with a loud explosive crack. Jemma watched ahead of them as it blasted into the invisible shielding that was only a few hundred meters ahead of them. As it hit, it sent off its own EMP, disabling the invisible field. Bobbi dropped the gun into a holster at her left hip and leaned into the backseat over the top of the driver’s seat as Jemma wrestled with the steering wheel to keep it steady.   
  
“Bobbi…” Jemma said as she watched the approaching wall they were careening straight toward.   
  
“I know,” Bobbi replied, the very picture of serenity and calm.   
  
“Bobbi!” Jemma shouted, with maybe fifteen seconds of travel time to spare.   
  
Bobbi whipped around, leaned along the top of the open roof of the jeep with a much larger weapon resting on her shoulder. She pulled the viewfinder to her eye, aimed and depressed the trigger. The kickback jolted her and she dropped the launcher into the back seat before dropping into the driver’s seat. “GET DOWN!” She shouted just as she forced Jemma’s head below the level of the dashboard, though she remained in her seat, eyes on the prize as she gripped the wheel in her fists. The wall ahead of them exploded sending pulverized bits of cinder blocks and barbed wire blasting into the air, possibly the bodies of a few guards that had been preparing to open fire on them as well. Jemma clenched her eyes shut and trusted Bobbi to get them inside. Jemma would have to do the rest of the navigating, provided they didn’t die before then.   
  
\--   
  
“What’s your plan?” Jack called to Skye, running just half a pace ahead of her at her side so that she could blast through obstacles with her power as they went.   
  
“Library,” Skye answered, breathless. Her powers were weaker than they were before she’d been in the zone. She still had medication in her system to dull them that needed to wear off. She didn’t know what Jack’s ability was but she knew it would be weak and out of practice whatever the case from his implants. “We need to get to the library,” she said.   
  
“The…library?” Jack slowed his pace and both Skye and the three Alishas running with them matched the drop in pace. Skye nodded, sharing a look with him that told him they didn’t have time for explanations. Jack pressed his lips together and gave her a nod. He stopped their trek, and held his arm out to keep them a pace or two behind him. He looked up and down the block to make sure the coast was clear and then he took a deep breath. Bending his arm at the elbow, he held his palm face up and curled his fingers. A dark eggplant purple cloud formed within the palm of his hand in a swirling mini-storm, occasionally crackling with brighter neon amethyst flashes as if it were a hurricane in the palm of his hand, forming and undulating in a growing spiral.   
  
Jack clenched his teeth and grunted. Perspiration beaded to his forehead. He pulled his hand back and then swung it like he was throwing a fastball in the ninth inning with one out to go in the game clincher. With a grunt of effort and pain, he released the small storm and it appeared in the street like a living hula hoop, swirling sideways, large enough for a human to jump through.   
  
“Jack…” Skye stared at the churning hole in the space in front of them, uncertain and anxious.   
  
“In we go here,” Jack grinned at her. “Out we pop in the library.”   
  
Skye still felt wary. Alisha and her clones simply nodded and rushed ahead, taking one (or three, technically) for the team as the first through the loop. Jack arched his eyebrows at Skye. The screech of tires nearby sent Skye into motion. She took a deep breath, adjusted her grip on Jazz and leapt through the hoop with Jack on her heels. She felt the wind sucked out of her and her grip on Jazz tightened as the girl cried out in fear.   
  
When she came through the other side, her knees wobbled wildly and Alisha’s copies caught her, steadied her and moved her out of the way as Jack tumbled out behind her. Skye gulped down air and turned to look at Jack. He reached out his hand and put his curled palm under the cloud of whirling smoke and light. The loop shrunk rapidly into his palm but not without the loud crack of a gunshot. Jack fell with a groan but continued to suck the portal back into his palm. He clenched his fist and extinguished the wormhole link as his right arm bled down his sleeve.   
  
Skye passed Jazz over to one of the Alishas. “Jack!” She dropped next to him and began to examine his arm.   
  
“I’m okay,” Jack said. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” He took a few deep breaths in and out.   
  
Skye tore at his sleeve to get a look at his arm and sighed in relief. It was just a grazing blow. “You’re okay,” she assured with a nod. “Parker-,”   
  
“He can take care of himself until I get back,” Jack cut Skye off. “Where else do you need to-,”   
  
“We can take it from here,” Skye assured. “Listen to me, okay? You need to get Parker and come back here,” she glanced around to make sure they were alone and then locked eyes with Parker. “Do you know where the preservation stack rooms are? In the basement two levels down from here?” she asked, assuming his portals were tied to places he knew of or had been before. Jack nodded, eyes wide as the real gravity of the situation they were in hit him. “Good. When you get back to Parker, you need to jump to that area in the basement. When you get to the corridor, go to the dead end with the yellow wall. Turn right down the hall and pass the boiler room. Take the next door you reach. That’s where we’ll be waiting for you both. Got it?” She asked him. “Jack!” she said when he seemed scared catatonic. She shook his shoulder. “Jack, do you understand?” She asked.   
  
Jack nodded quickly. “Good,” Skye nodded. “How long will it take you to get Parker and get back to the library?” Skye asked.   
  
Jack stammered. “A-about…about five minutes, maybe more if he-,”   
  
“Go get him. We’ll meet you in the basement. Hurry,” Skye hesitated, gave Jack a quick hug. “Thank you,” she murmured. “Now, go!” She turned to the Alishas and Jazz and Alisha merely nodded. Skye took off at a tired run and Alisha’s crew followed her, some of them limping or huffing louder than normal.   
  
\--   
  
Jemma and Bobbi made it six blocks into the city before they had to abandon the open top jeep. Bobbi laid down cover fire and managed to take out four soldiers as they fled the jeep. Jemma held her own with the weapons Bobbi had grabbed for her. She managed to take out a guard that showed up over Bobbi’s shoulder when she was busy taking out one of the snipers on the rooftops.   
  
Bobbi’s head snapped over her shoulder in time to see the Peace Council guard collapse to the ground in a heap. She looked over at Jemma, standing there holding her gun steady though Bobbi could see the very slight wobble in the end of it from her nerves. Jemma was not a violent person. She didn’t like guns. She didn’t like death. But there was nothing, absolutely  _ nothing _ that would stop her from getting to Skye today. Bobbi gave Jemma a grateful nod. “Where would she go?” Bobbi asked.   
  
Jemma blinked. “What?” She was still dazed.   
  
“Skye,” Bobbi replied. “Where would she go if she were in trouble? Where would we find her?”   
  
“Oh!” Jemma looked up and down the street to orient herself. Bobbi reached out and dragged her by her collar into a store front’s cover just as a bullet clipped the cement of the building she had been looking around. Bits of crumbled concrete and stone splattered her shoulder and cheekbone, drawing a cuss and groan from Jemma as a streak of blood started down from her cheekbone.   
  
Bobbi hauled her up from where she had lilted over, steadied her face by her chin and sighed in relief. “Just a scratch,” she assured them both.   
  
Jemma let out a shaky breath. She surveyed what she could see of the street they were on. There was a ‘public works’ building across the street that she figured didn’t have much use anymore but for extra shelter for those struggling to survive. “There,” She pointed. “We have to get across to that building,” she said.   
  
Bobbi blinked and looked at the building. “…There?” she asked skeptically.   
  
“There’ll be a sewer access point in the basement sub levels,” she said. “We need to get underground. They won’t be able to see us and we can move faster through the city,” she explained. She pointed with the gun in her hand. “We have to go over there,” When she looked back across the street, a guard was popping up from behind a useless mailbox. Jemma stiffened her wrist and pulled the trigger on her gun twice.   
  
The bullets struck him in the shoulder and the chest at specific weak spots on his armor and he collapsed. Jemma hadn’t solely been training with Bobbi in hand to hand combat. She had been training with various weapons. She had known that she needed to be prepared for when the time came that she would have to step up, to take care of both herself and Skye. She didn’t have to like the skills to train and hone them into useful life skills. Jemma changed the magazine in her gun as she looked over at Bobbi and arched her eyebrow.   
  
Bobbi nodded. “Let’s go,” She gave her chin a jut to let Jemma know her side was the right side. Back to back, Bobbi and Jemma rushed across the street, firing as they went – across the street and into the public works building to make their way down into the sewers.    
  



	9. Lead The Way

Once Skye had made it to the room past the boiler that held the sewer access area that she used to get to her meetings with Jemma, Skye shut the door behind them, confident than no one had followed them (she’d made sure of it). She pushed the door shut and leaned against it, breathing heavily for just a moment. Her bones ached and she felt the mass of fatigued as it weighed her down.

Alisha held a still trembling and whimpering Jasmine in her arms, rocking the girl gently and murmuring reassurances from her while sparing only one clone to watch the sewer access pipe for approaching guards. It was then that Skye could see the full extent of injuries, or some of them at least, those ones that Jazz’s body wasn’t blocking. She was beaten, bloody and swollen. Her hands were raw and mangled from fighting back. Her face bruised and gnarled, her nose twisted crookedly, no doubt broken. “Are you…did they-,”

“Not important,” Alisha answered gravely.

Skye couldn’t remember the last time Alisha spoke to her coherently, without strange metaphors or ominous hidden weaved warnings. Her eyes welled just for a moment. “Good to have you back,” Her voice cracked in the middle of it. She had always considered it her fault; getting trapped inside the zone, losing Lincoln to his vices and cowardice, all that they had done to Alisha, the implants – Skye felt responsible for all of it. “Alisha, I-,”

“It’s not like that,” Alisha cut her off with a firm shake of her head. “You kept your promise,” she reminded Skye with the tiniest smile, a grateful expression crossing her features. “Thank you.”

They both blanched at a commotion in the hallway. Skye motioned for Alisha to be quiet, that she would go check it out. Alisha simply nodded. This was no time to argue. Skye took a deep breath and slipped into the hallway. She headed for the turn that Jack and Parker would need to take, where the commotion was coming from and before she knew what was happening, she was on her back on the ground with the wind knocked out of her.

\--

“You’re sure we’re heading the right way?” Bobbi asked.

Jemma shot her an irritated look. “Yes,” she answered simply. Under normal circumstances, this was the kind of moment that Jemma would start rambling out an explanation all about _how_ she knew they were heading the right way, but not today. Right that moment, Jemma was focused solely on getting to the meet up point, to the apartment. Skye would make it there. They had a cache of weapons hidden all about the place. Jemma was confident Skye would make it to them, would protect herself until Jemma and Bobbi could reach her and get her to safety. She knew with the EMP blasts that Skye’s inhibitor had been rendered inert, which meant that Skye would be able to use her power. At the same time, Jemma didn’t know if Skye was strong enough to use her powers for prolonged periods on a whim. Her thoughts fed into her fears, which spurred her on to move faster.

“Simmons, slow down,” Bobbi murmured as she caught up to Jemma in a few strides with her longer legs. “We need to be cautious,” She tried to keep her voice down so it wouldn’t carry in the cavernous sewer. “You can’t just go swinging through crossroads and around corners.”

“Do you hear the sirens?” Jemma asked without stopping. She wasn’t going about this race all willy-nilly. Her gun was drawn and arms outstretched, flashlight in one hand, both arms tucked crossed over each other so that she could aim the flashlight and the gun simultaneously. The flashlight was on its medium setting but one flick of her thumb would send it into its highest, most blinding bright LED setting should anyone nefarious crop up on the way. Jemma would not stop. She refused. _I will find you,_ Jemma thought to herself as if Skye might hear her internal thoughts. _I will find you and we’ll escape this prison and we’ll find somewhere safe together; together or not at all, Skye. That’s the deal._

 “Any moment they’re going to blitz the city with aerosol bombs,” Jemma was carefully listening for any signs of jet fighter engines above the sirens though she wasn’t sure they’d be able to hear them down here.

“Simmons, we’ve got breathers for that,” Bobbi pointed out.

“Course we do,” Even in her rush to get here Jemma wouldn’t have come without supplies. She’d had an emergency bag packed for situations like this and had been careful to make sure the path took them past its hiding place on the way to the garage to steal the jeep. “If Skye hasn’t made it to our meetup then she might not have one. If Alisha made it with her, there won’t be an extra one for her. Skye-,”

“Skye is more than capable of taking care of herself,” Bobbi cut in, keeping close stride. “We both know that. We can’t lose sight of-,”

Jemma stopped, only long enough to round on Bobbi. “Stop it!” She snapped. “You haven’t seen her! She’s barely holding onto life! She’s been slowly wasting away in front of my eyes for _years_! She’s had countless trial medications forced into her that have done who knows what to her body, has been forced into a bastardized version of devices _I_ originally invented that have left her with slowly festering wounds and now she’s probably being hunted by the entirety of the Peace Council Guard force so don’t tell me she can take care of herself right now!” Jemma shouted, so caught up in her fear and anger that she was ignorant of the hot tears leaking from her eyes but for the sting they caused when they slipped into the open cut on her cheekbone. Bobbi stared at Jemma, taken aback by the outburst.

“You’re either with me to get her out of here to safety or you should save your own skin and get back to HQ before it’s too late,” Jemma would be forever grateful for the countless ways Bobbi had helped her over the years but right here, right this moment it was do or die and Jemma was not going to lose Skye so she couldn’t second guess any of her decisions in the next few hours. She was desperate and determined on top of the lethal combo of her fear and anxiety, Jemma Simmons was in a wildly dangerous state of mind.

“Of course I’m with you,” Bobbi replied without a second thought. “Lead the way, Jem,” She said with a firm nod. Jemma spun on her heel and was off once more, running this time with Bobbi hot on her heels.

\--

It had been a hard fight. There were six Peace Council Guards to three of them; Skye, Jack and Parker. Two of the guards remained. Parker had a bullet in his shoulder; Jack’s arm was broken in two different places, the bone sticking out of one of them. Skye couldn’t take stock of her own wounds. She had be stabbed in the side with a knife but didn’t know how deep the wound was just then. She’d been prodded multiple times with their cattle prod Billy clubs. She might have had a cracked or broken rib or two as well but it was hard to tell.

One of the remaining guards stood with a gun in each hand aimed at Jack and Parker on the floor of the hallway. The other had Skye by the back of the neck. She put her hands out on either side of the doorframe to the sewer access room and strained her muscles to keep from letting him slam her face-first into the heavy wooden door.

“Tell her to open the door,” He growled, his lips close to Skye’s ear. She heard him take a deep inhale as he pressed against her back and tightened his grip on her neck.

Skye ground her teeth together. Her arms shook with fatigue. Her entire body ached. Her head spun as she reeled from multiple fights in the last hour or so and from trying to figure a way out of this situation while her side burned and blood seeped from the wound in her side, sticking her clothes to her skin. Her lip and face gashes had busted open again, bleeding worse than they had before. “No,” she sneered.

“Fine,” the guard snapped. He pulled his head back and looked over at the other guard. “Kill-,”

“ _NO!_ ” Skye shouted. “No, don’t! I’ll do it!”

“Skye, don’t!” Parker gasped.

“Jasmine…” Jack murmured a reminder.

“Shut up!” The guard swung one of the guns and clocked Parker across the temple. Jack went to reach for him and the guard cocked the hammer of the gun back and pushed it against Jack’s swollen shut eyelid.

“Stop! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” Skye said, casting a glance at Jack and Parker. She turned her face back toward the door. “Alisha…” Skye called her name out in a cracked, tired tone. She knew Alisha was listening from the other side of the door even though she had hoped Alisha had run away with Jazz long ago while the fight was going on. “Please…” she said, “ _Don’t open the door_ ,” She said it clearly but all in a rush to make sure she got it out.

“You lying _bitch_!” The guard slammed Skye’s face into the door. Skye fell to her knees in a daze. Just as the Guard hauled her up to her feet, she put her hands out to the walls on either side of the door and focused as best as she could, pushing the waves outward, sending her and the guard lurching backwards into the wall behind the guard. He slammed into the wall and she slammed into him. Both of them toppled to the ground.

In the next instant, the door swung open and three Alishas burst forth. Two went after the guard on Jack and Parker, taking him out before he could get any shots off. The other helped Skye with her guard. Two of them flickered in and out of sight once the guards were gone and soon they slipped back through the door and out of sight.

“We need to hurry before more come,” The last remaining clone said. She gave Parker one of the guns, took one for herself and helped Parker get Jack on his feet.

“You and Jazz,” Skye said as she took the other guard’s gun and checked him for an extra magazine.

“In the sewers already,” Alisha clone said. “Let’s go,” she said again.

Skye nodded. Alisha struggled with Parker and Jack into the room. Skye entered behind them. She shut the door and propped the handle with the folding chair as was her usual set up, just to give them a little extra time. She was the last down the ladder and into the sewer.

 


	10. She'll Be Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Faint of heart beware of action! 
> 
> As usual, I'm posting from my phone again, forgive me my terrible typos I've missed! (please feel free to point any out and I'll fix them as well!)
> 
> Thanks as always for reading and for the kudos, comments and love!!  
> <3
> 
> \-------

“We can’t stay in one place for too long,” Bobbi didn’t have time to be gentle with her words. It was a fact. When they had arrived at the rundown, vacant building Jemma and Skye had been secretly meeting in for so long, Bobbi had known that they wouldn’t be able to stay if Skye wasn’t already there.

“She’ll be here,” Jemma replied with confidence. She alternated between pacing, walking to the door to check through the peephole and peeking out through the heavy curtains on the windows. There weren’t many street lights in this area of town, so it wasn’t as if she could see much on the street.

“Jemma-,”

“ _She’ll be here_.” Jemma cut Bobbi off, unwilling to accept any other suggestion. The last thing Jemma wanted to do was barricade herself into this room and wait for Skye. It was the only option at that very moment though, so it was the choice she opted for in the end.

Both Jemma and Bobbi could hear the fighting, further off in the distance. Both of them knew that Skye could be stuck in battle but zone was too large for them to wander about looking for Skye. It would be too likely that they would miss each other. No, waiting in the secret meetup spot was the best option. Jemma and Skye had discussed emergency situations like this. They had agreed that the best bet would be to hit the meetup spot for supplies and escape.

Bobbi watched as Jemma made her pacing circuit of the room and went to the door to check through the peephole again. She felt uneasy about this situation but, then again they had just recently blasted their way inside, breaking multiple international treaties and laws in the process. She glanced at the watch on her wrist for possibly the tenth time in the last twenty minutes. She spotted a message on the screen and glanced at Jemma again, ensuring she was distracted with her pacing before Bobbi discreetly tapped out a short reply and sent the message back.

\--

Moving through the sewers with injured company was a lot tougher than setting her own pace. Skye kept their group moving at the steadiest pace she could. Skye was having trouble keeping pace anyway, exhausted from the fight thus far. Her injuries slowed her down but if Parker and Jack could make it, so could Skye. She only wished that Jack and Parker had known of the location of her secret meet up spot so they could make use of those portals again.

When they made it to their destination, Skye looked up the ladder at the manhole cover above. She briefly wondered if she’d be able to lift it once she reached the top. She wondered how they were going to get Jack up the ladder with his broken arm. There was little time to fret over anything. There was only time to make decisive choices. Skye gave a glance to the group and then started up the tall ladder. Upon reaching the top, she leaned her back against the manhole cover and listened very carefully for the sounds of any soldiers on the street.

After a few minutes, she decided it was as safe as it was ever going to be to leave the sewer. Soon enough, the PCG would sweep the sewers anyhow. Skye took a deep breath, ground her teeth together and let out a grunt as she pushed up with her knees from the ladder. It took some effort, but she managed to lift and move the manhole cover back. As soon as she was able, she pulled herself out through the hole and turned around, on her knees above the hole. She pushed the cover as far over as she could and looked up and down the street, arms outstretched in either direction, prepared. She looked down into the hole.

“Let’s go,” She said. Alisha didn’t have to convince Jasmine to cling to her since the girl was wrapped around her torso, arms around her neck and shoulders and legs tightly around her waist. Alisha climbed the ladder carefully and, with some effort, managed to get her and Jasmine safely to the street. Two clones broke off from Alisha as soon as they were on the surface, trying to cover Skye and Jasmine with extra shielding as they waited for Jack and Parker, one with a broken arm and the other a bullet in the shoulder, to climb to the top. Skye helped them from the sewer and as soon as they were all together, started moving for the meetup building.

Before they could get to the building, a Humvee raced around the corner, blaring with sirens and brandishing automatic weapons. “Get inside, now!” Skye shouted, turning both her hands toward them. She could feel the vibrations in the very depths of her bones as they burst from her hands and flew in waves toward the approaching soldiers, throwing weapons, soldiers and even pieces of the Humvee in their wake.

\--

Jemma dashed for the window when she heard sirens and gunfire. Bobbi barely had time to pull her away from the curtains to make sure she wasn’t seen. “Let me go!”

“I understand your need to protect her, but I won’t let you do it at the expense of your life too!” Bobbi snapped back at her. Jemma struggled in her grasp. “You need to pull yourself together, right now, Simmons, or we’re not getting out of this alive – any of us!”

Jemma started to settle down but the sound of gunfire and shouting became louder. They were in the hallway. Jemma raced for the door, gun drawn, safety off and hammer cocked.

“Jemma!” Bobbi shouted.

Jemma flipped the locks and threw the door open. She leaned out in the hall just in time to see Alisha ducking around the corner with something in her arms. One of her clones wrapped around the front of her to cover whatever she was carrying. Two men burst around the corner next, limping and leaning on each other.

“It’s up ahead here!” One of them pointed without looking.

“She said it’s room 286, go!” The other gave the Alisha huddle a shove. Alisha began to move, pushing up the hall. The men followed, limping away. In the cross hall at the end, she saw swirls and gusts of dirt and debris, heard the explosive concussion of gunfire but saw no bullets burst past to hit any of the walls.

“Here!” Jemma shouted, though she knew they couldn’t bunker down in the room long. She pushed into the hall was Bobbi made it to the door. Rushing for Alisha, She hooked an arm around her and realized Alisha was carrying a little girl in her arms. She hurried Alisha and the girl along into Bobbi’s grasp in the doorway. Bobbi pulled them inside and quickly began to hook them up to some breathers, fastening them around their mouths and noses, with no time to spare. The men tumbled into the room next and Bobbi used the emergency kit Jemma had given her from a hiding spot to get them hooked to a pair of breathers.

Bobbi knew there was a Blitz scrambling and she needed to get them all hooked up to breathers before it was too late. “Jemma!” She called out from the doorway.

Skye took a sideways dive around the corner of the hall. A hail of bullets hit the wall behind where she had been standing as soon as she landed. She gulped down air and scrambled backward, moving up the hall toward room 286. The hail of gunfire stopped briefly until the guards turned around the corner. Skye began to lift shaky hands, preparing to send a few more percussive wave blasts at the guards to throw them but before she could, a blast of gunfire erupted from behind her. Three successive gunshots took out both of the guards and Skye looked over her shoulder to spot Jemma, standing firm and steadied, arms braced and gun out.

Jemma wanted nothing more than to rush to Skye and throw her arms around her but she kept her gaze on the hall, waiting for any other surprises around the corner. Skye could’ve cried in that moment; she was simultaneously relieved and panicked to see Jemma in the zone right then. She scrambled to her knees and then her feet and rushed down the hall. Jemma waited until she turned into the room to duck into the room herself and slam the door shut.

“Bobbi…” Skye blinked, unsure if seeing her former teammate was a good sign or not, but if she was here it meant Jemma had trusted her and Skye didn’t have time to puzzle it out or ask questions.

“More are on the way,” Bobbi said as she hastily passed the last of the spare breathers from the kit to Skye. Jemma began to work on attaching her own. She glanced at her watch. “They’re about to Blitz the zone. We need to move. Now.”

“How do you-,” Before Jemma could finish the question an explosion rocked the street outside the building, prompting Bobbi, Jemma and Skye to dive over the others in an attempt to protect them from any debris that came bursting through the windows.

“Jack,” Skye turned to the man with the broken arm. “Can you still use your ability?” She asked.

Jack grimaced, ground his teeth together but nodded. “I think so.” He nodded.

Skye turned to Jemma and Bobbi. “Where did you enter the zone?” She asked.

Bobbi turned her wrist and tapped her watch. A moment later, a three dimensional map of the zone protruded from the watch. She held her wrist out and turned the map, indicating the section of the wall they had blown through.

Skye looked at Jack. “Can you get us there?” She asked.

Jack studied the area. He ground his teeth together again and nodded. “I can do it,” He nodded again.

Jack huffed and puffed for air and grunted as he brought his uninjured hand up, palm facing skyward. The round eggplant purple cloud, the beginnings of the portal, appeared in Jack’s palm and grew from there at a slower pace than before. When the weight of the effort tugged his arm down too much, he tossed it toward an open space in the apartment and aimed his hand at it, causing it to grow wide enough for them to pass through.

“Go,” Skye ordered Bobbi. Bobbi gave her a solemn nod. She took helped Alisha and Jasmine up and sent them through the portal. Next she moved to start helping Parker and Jack. Skye force Jemma through the portal first and then took the last leap through before the PCG could bust down the apartment door.

\--

Skye’s legs wobbled out from under her when she reached the other side of the portal. She collapsed to her knees and Jemma quickly pulled her up as Jack brought the portal closed again into his palm. They heard the sounds of jets overhead, no doubt laying a thick layer of the Blitz down to render all the active Inhumans incapacitated as they did. Skye and the group were safe from the terrible fate from the breathers. They would have limited time to get a safe distance outside the zone.

They raced for the wall, only to have to duck behind mounds of rubble left over from Bobbi and Jemma’s earlier explosive entrance to the zone. They were going to need to clear the guard force trying to protect the gap in the wall and then would need to secure a vehicle to get out of there.

“I need some cover fire,” Skye said after trying to discern how many directions bullets were flying from.

Bobbi gave Alisha’s clone an extra gun and nodded. Jemma reloaded her gun and nodded, though she was trembling a bit with trepidation. Skye took a deep breath and nodded. “On my mark,” She reached for the hat on Parker’s head. “One, two…” She wound up and threw the hat like a Frisbee off over the rubble mound in an angular direction away from them as she shouted, “Three!”

The concentration of gunfire shifted to the hat first, which gave Jemma, Bobbi and Alisha time to pop up, aim and fire off at the guard force. Skye jumped to her feet and threw her hands out in a wide arc, focusing on casting the widest wave blast she could at the wall. The guards were thrown from the wall to the ground. The guards standing by the opening in the wall were thrown several feet and then to the ground and even the wall wobbled with the force of the blast.

When it was over, Skye found herself on her hands and knees, breathing heavily and gritting her teeth. Jemma dropped next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Skye-,”

“We need to move, now!” Bobbi called, already leading the others.

Jemma pursed her lips together and tugged Skye’s arm over her shoulder, pulling her up to her feet and urging her along toward their only exit of the zone. “We’re almost there,” she assured Skye. “Don’t give up on me now,” She murmured to Skye, squeezing her waist.

“I love you,” Skye managed to murmur, fighting to move as quickly as she could with Jemma’s help.

Past the gap in the wall, there were a few more guards that Bobbi and Alisha took care of. There were two vehicles, a Humvee and an open top jeep. Bobbi ushered them into the Humvee to give them a little more protection. She raced through the woods, heading back toward HQ.

“Where are you going?” Jemma's eyes widened as she held onto a half-conscious Skye in the back seat. “Bobbi, we can’t go back there!”

“We have no choice,” Bobbi spoke.

“They’ll be executed!” Jemma gasped.

“You have to trust me, Jemma-,”

Jemma tried to dive into the front seat, sending the Humvee straying wildly through the woods. “You can’t take us back!” She shouted.

By the time Skye had managed to pull Jemma into the backseat before they wound up crashing, Bobbi was already back out on the main road. She slammed the brakes on and skidded to a stop on the muddy, cracked road, facing a massive barricade ahead of them. Everyone fell silent but for the sniffle Jemma inhaled. They had made a desperate sacrifice and it was all for nothing!

“It’s going to be okay,” Bobbi insisted as she put the Humvee in park when she realized the blockade wasn’t a PCG road block but a Shield blockade. She slowly put her hands up so they would be seen through the windshield.

Jemma let out an unintelligible howl of grief as she wildly swung a fist that connect with Bobbi’s temple so forcefully it not only broke Jemma’s knuckled but split a portion of Bobbi’s temple and sent her out cold, her head slumping against the horn of the Humvee. Guards quickly advanced on their Humvee and Skye barely had time to wrap her arms around Jemma, pinning her arms down as she cried.

One by one they were dragged from the Humvee. One by one the Inhumans were shackled and then injected with sedatives to render them unconscious. Jemma was given the same treatment after May had arrived and assessed her level of hysteria.

“I knew you could never be trusted!” Jemma lashed out at May before a needle was jammed into her arm. “Even Coulson…didn’t…trust…”

May frowned at the scene before her. “Get them out of here and back to base before the PCG locates them. Trackers are to be removed. Place HQ on high alert. No one enters alive without my authorization.” She ordered, sending her minions into action immediately.

 


	11. There is No Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Panyan....I'm sorry, I've done it again. Faint of heart, beware anxiety ahead!
> 
> Typos: Please forgive me, I haven't had the chance to fully spell/grammar check and my eyes are a bit bleary. Please feel free to comment with any errors you see and I'll fix em!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Thanks as well for the kudos, comments and love! <3 <3   
> Happy Thanksgiving my fellow 'muricans! Happy Thursday everyone else!   
> Enjoy!   
> :)

“Has she tried to use her abilities to break free?” May’s eyes were focused on the screen on the wall that displayed the interior of the interrogation room.  The honeycombed walls matched the gray slated floor. A single stainless steel table sat in the middle of the floor with a matching chair. Skye sat stiffly in the chair. She had cuffs around her wrists, attached to a ring on the edge of the table in front of her by welded steel chains. Skye could have easily broken free of the chains with nothing to inhibit her powers.  On the table in front of Skye, within her reach, was a warm plate of food – grilled steak, baked potato and sautéed green beans with roasted garlic, the way Skye liked them best – with a full glass of water and a full pitcher sitting beside it. The food was already cut and ready to go and she had been given a plastic spoon to eat it. Everything remained untouched before her. 

“She knows as well as you do that she can’t break out of the room,” Bobbi replied. Her face was a solemn mask of neutrality, her hands resting behind her back, one holding onto the opposite risk as she and May discussed the situation. A set of steri-strip bandages held the split in her temple that Jemma’s punch in the Humvee had caused. There was a swollen, deep purple bruise surrounding it.  It wasn’t her only bruise or scrape from the dust up but it was the one Melinda May was currently eyeing when she looked over Bobbi’s face, scrutinizing. 

“Student turned on the teacher in the end?” May arched her right eyebrow. 

“Simmons was under extreme duress in the heat of the moment,” Bobbi replied. 

“Cut the crap, Bobbi,” May sighed. 

“Ma’am?” Bobbi glanced around the room; no doubt they were being monitored as well. 

“How do you like your eggs?” May asked. 

Bobbi’s eyebrows arched just the slightest bit higher. “Scrambled?” She asked. May nodded and Bobbi relaxed momentarily. 

“Speak frankly,” May ordered. 

Bobbi glanced at the monitor on the screen. “She’s weak,” She said. “Simmons did what she could while she thought she was getting away with it, to try and keep her in good health. She’s still got fight in her…” 

“But?” May asked. Bobbi noticed that while May’s gaze was on the screen, she wasn’t staring at it with venom. Her façade had broken. She was watching Skye sit perfectly still at the table, staring down at her hands, gaunt, skin and bones, still bleeding from some of her battle wounds. 

“What reason has she got to care about what happens to the rest of us? We’re the ones that got them shipped into concentration camps. Why would she care if the rest of us survive?” Bobbi asked. 

May had no answer. There was an internal war raging within her. What would Phil have done? Would he have been willing to sacrifice her? Technically, he had sacrificed her by sending her into the zone in the first place, hadn’t he? He paid for that mistake with his life. May took a slow, steadying breath and forced her façade firmly back into place.

“Turn all recording off and scramble the interrogation room.” May said before she stepped out of the room and headed for the interrogation room's door. Bobbi turned off the recordings and set up the electronic scramblers before she keyed the code to unlock the door.  May stepped inside and the door immediately closed and sealed behind her. 

\--

Jemma’s eyes cracked open. She groaned as she reached a hand up to her forehead. She had a splitting headache, a side effect of the tranquilizer they’d dosed her with. Her eyes popped open all the way and bolted upright in the bed and looked around. The panic set in immediately. They had knocked her out. They had knocked everyone in the Humvee out. Well, they didn’t knock Bobbi out. Jemma had seen to that. She looked at her hand and found it was wrapped in white gauze covering her knuckles and winding around her wrist where it was taped off. She’d busted the skin on her knuckles from forcefully punching Bobbi in her fury. But Jemma was alone. They had taken Skye and the others. 

She crossed the cramped space, dizzy still from the chemical still wearing off  and leaned against the frame of the window. The isolation pod was in the medical wing. She looked for any sign of Skye or any of the others from the group and saw none of them. Jemma went to the panel on the wall, the panic rising in her as a sour bolt of bile churned in her throat. Quickly, she began punching all the codes she had memorized for disabling the lock on the pod to break free. There were two dozen combinations for overrides that Skye herself had secretly programmed into the pods. Apparently one of May’s technicians had discovered them and wiped them out because Jemma kept coming up empty with repeated ‘Access Denied,’ codes coming up. 

Jemma slammed the switch for the intercom and began to bang wildly on the glass. Most of the staff ignored her or only spared an anxious glance her way as she began dismantling what she could of the bed inside the pod to find things to swing at the window. She knew the glass wouldn’t burst. She knew it was likely that they would blast her with something to knock her out again any moment. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was finding some way to get to Skye. If she had to claw at the window of the isolation pod until she’d stripped away the flesh and muscles of her fingers, shred them down to the bones, to get to Skye, then that was what Jemma would do. 

“Simmons!” Fitz’s shout broke through the frantic panic of Jemma’s screams and wild frenzy. She dropped the metal piping, a piece of the bed frame she had managed to wrench free and pressed close to the window, palms against the glass.

“Fitz!” Jemma gasped his name, breathless. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Fitz, where’s Skye?” She asked him. 

Fitz frowned. “You have to calm down,” He said the words slowly, calm, trying his best not to stammer.

Jemma slammed her palms against the glass and Fitz jumped back a foot in surprise. “ Where's Skye?!” She demanded. “What've they done with her??” 

Fitz rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced behind him and Jemma followed his gaze. Hovering near the door of the medical wing were three guards in full black tactical gear with high grade military issued assault rifles. One look and Jemma knew for sure they were loaded with live action rounds and not icers or anything akin to icers. Did they really think they needed that many guards to keep Jemma locked in an inescapable isolation pod? 

“Fitz,” Jemma forced her voice to sound as even and calm as she could while wild visions of torture, or worse, ran through her mind as possibilities of what they were currently doing to Skye. “Fitz…please,” Jemma’s eyes welled but she refused to let them shed any of the tears that wanted to escape. “Please…I need to know. Is...is she alright?” 

Fitz watched her  and chewed on his lower lip. “I’m sorry, Jem, I-,” 

“ Sir, step back from the isolation chamber,” One of the guards s tepped into the room. Fitz looked back and watched the guard flip the gun’s safety off with a flick of his thumb. He swallowed and took a couple of steps back from the  pod; his own eyes welled with tears. 

Jemma focused on Fitz’s words and nothing else right then. “You’re sorry – what…Fitz!” She shouted his name as he backed away. “Fitz what does that mean? What did they do?? Where is she - is she alright?! FITZ!” Jemma slammed her hands against the glass again as the guard took Fitz by the arm and led him out of the room. The room was cleared and the doors were sealed off, leaving two guards at the glass doors of the particular examination station her isolation chamber was currently residing. Jemma continued to bang on the glass, even grabbed the metal piping from the bedframe again to begin bashing away at the offending surface. She turned to the camera in the inside corner of the pod and screamed at it, demanded to speak to May, or Bobbi, to know what had happened to Skye and the others. When no response came but the hum of electronics hooked up to the pod, Jemma swung the pipe until the camera was on the ground and smashed it to pieces. Within seconds of taking out the camera, the pod’s air vents began spewing a fog of gas. Within seconds, Jemma’s pounding on the glass and walls ceased as she slipped to the floor in a heap, once again unconscious. 

\--

When the door to the interrogation cell opened, Skye didn’t move. She had been expecting it, had been waiting for it. She had woken up in the interrogation chamber with a massive headache and pain shooting throughout her arms and her side. She could taste the salty, metallic copper of blood in her mouth from wounds that hadn’t sealed and scabbed over yet. She knew the knife wound in her side was still bleeding but she also knew it must have been a shallow gash or they would have been forced to treat it. As it was, her long john shirt was clinging to the wound and likely imbedding into the scab her body was attempting to build over the wound, however slowly. Skye wasn’t surprised at all that May had ordered them to transfer her directly here and had ordered them to skip medical treatment. It wouldn’t make sense to treat her wounds. You didn’t waste resources treating a wounded dog that had to be put down. You simply put the thing down once it was clear there was no other way.

Skye was surprised, however, that they had delivered her food. Her stomach was angry that she didn’t make any move to touch the food. It could have been poisoned she supposed, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t May’s style to take someone out like that. No, they wanted something from Skye, or else she never would have woken up again to begin with. So Skye had waited patiently in the room, forcing down her fear for Jemma and the others’ safety. She couldn’t break out of this room. She knew that. She would be useless to them if she tried since they would, no doubt, kill her immediately. No, Skye had to wait this out. 

It was with these thoughts cycling through her mind that she raised only her eyes to look through matted strands of her hair at Melinda May as she entered the room. The door sealed with a hiss behind her and only then did Melinda take a few steps into the room, a file folder tucked under her arm. Her stony façade was in place as usual. Skye glared. She felt the pull of her flinching muscles as the right side of her face tried to fight off the growling sneer she wanted to make at the woman.  It was the first time they had been in the same room since Coulson had been killed. Skye gripped the chains connected to her handcuffs as she had been since she had awoken and discovered them. She made no attempt to shatter them with her powers, merely wrapped her hands tight around  them, flexed her fingers, fisted the metal until it dug into her aching flesh and whitened her marled knuckles. 

Skye remained outwardly calm in that she didn’t burst from the chair and attack May but her gaze and glare followed the woman. She remained as calm and composed as ever despite the well of rage that grew within her gut. Skye had learned this very skill from Melinda May herself, back when she thought she could trust the woman. That had been a grave mistake that Skye could never take back. 

“ Skye,” May put the file folder down on the corner of the table and stepped closer. Skye’s eyes followed her but she didn’t move or flinch as May came to a stop at the corne r of the table closest to her.  _ No Pleasantries _ _,_ Skye thought,  _good, I can play this game_. “ I’m sorry for meeting under these terms. I’m sure you understand the need for our precautionary measures.” 

Skye’s body released an involuntary derisive huff. Her tongue pushed low along the inside of her swollen lip. Holding back on swallowing the blood pooling from it to avoid flinching and having May think it was because of her. “What’ve you done with Jemma and the others?” Skye did not expect an answer to her question. She merely offered it so that May would know the only reason she hadn’t sacrificed herself to break the chains that bound her so she could shatter every bone in Melinda May’s body was because she didn’t want to jeopardize their lives any further than she already had. 

“I know this is hard for you to see right now,” May replied without acknowledging the question. “But everything we’ve done, we’ve done for the good of-,” 

Skye turned and spit the gathering blood in her mouth at May’s boots, grinding May’s speech to a halt. Skye lifted her head now. She squared her shoulders and met May’s gaze  with u nflinching contempt and hatred, almost challenging May with nothing but her eyes to a final battle between them. “You’re a coward, a liar and a traitor,” Skye spit the words out at May through a snarl of tightly ground teeth. “Go ahead and do whatever you’re going to do to me, but spare us both the bullshit.”

May set her jaw tight and took a long breath to keep calm. “There’s been a great deal of misunderstanding between us,” May said when she thought she had wrestled her emotions under control. Skye opened her mouth to speak but May cut her off. “Think  very  carefully about the next few moments of this conversation, Skye.” She warned. Skye sneered at her and gripped the chains tighter. 

May reached for the plate and pushed it closer in front of Skye. “Maybe we should continue this conversation after you’ve gotten some food in your stomach and we’ve had a doctor look you over-,” 

Skye shook with unspent anger and fear. She had no idea what had been done to Jemma…or Alisha, Jasmine, Parker or Jack. She didn’t know what May wanted from her. She wanted to tear May’s tongue out so she didn’t have to listen to her voice anymore. She had trusted May. Coulson had trusted her too. Skye’s hands shook on the chains and in the next moment the links shattered and fell to the floor in a shower of tinkling metal on metal. She flipped the plate of  food so hard it hit the wall behind May and in the same instant was on her feet. By the time she was nose to nose with the older woman , holding her by fistfuls of the front of her leather jacket , May  had  grabbed her gun from its thigh holster, flipped the safety off with her thumb and had the end of it pressed hard against Skye’s chest directly over her heart. Her finger was beneath the trigger guard, hovering over the trigger, ready to squeeze. 

“ If you’re gonna kill me, you’d better do it now,” Skye growled at her through her ground teeth. “I’ve no intention of letting you leave this room alive.” 

“We’re on the same team!” May snapped.  “Don’t make me do this, Skye.” 

“ _ Team _ ?” Skye barked out a laugh. “There is no team,  _ Agent May _ ,” She sneered at the woman and shook May by the grip on her jacket. “You pulled the wool over even his eyes ,you murderous _bitch_ -,” 

In one swift motion, May flipped the gun's safety on with her thumb, swung the gun back and cold cocked Skye across the mouth with it.  Skye’s reflexes were unprepared for the maneuver and it threw her to her knees on the ground, her lip splitting and bleeding anew. “I did what Coulson ordered me to do in the situation!” May advanced on Skye. Skye braced herself on her elbows and swung her leg out, kicking the gun out of May’s hand. 

May hauled Skye halfway to her feet by the collar. “Don’t sit here and patronize me with your self-righteousness! I didn’t want you in there! I told him to keep you out of it –  I  wanted you in a safe house away from all of this. Phil’s the one that sent you in there! He’s the one that put us in this position! He gave his life to protect us-,” 

“Yeah, when you murdered him!” Skye spat, unable to see past her rage to understand that May was trying to get through to her. May’s fist reeled back. Skye’s eyes flicked to the fist and then back to May’s. Her hand was wrapped around the wrist of the hand still gripping Skye’s shirt front. “Do it.” Skye challenged. “Prove me right,” She sent a small blast of vibrations trough May’s arm by her wrist, a threat to use more power, the challenge in full.

The door to the room burst open and both women turned towards it. Bobbi pushed through the door and it sealed shut behind her. She had a gun in the hand of one stiffly braced arm and a tablet in the other. “Both of you stand down.” She ordered. “ _ Now _ !” she put the tablet on the table and braced her arms to level the gun on them. 

Skye and May stared each other down for a  tense moment. Reluctantly, Skye released her grip on May and bent her arms at the elbows, raising her hands as if in surrender.  May pulled Skye properly to her feet and let her go. She went to retrieve her own gun from the  corner while Bobbi looked at Skye and nodded toward the chair she had been sitting in. “Sit down,” she said. “Please.” 

Skye’s brow burrowed but she didn’t let her guard down. She returned to her seat and sat down heavily. May picked her gun up and slipped it back into its holster. She walked through the room and settled against the back wall, crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall as if she didn’t trust herself to be within arm’s length of Skye right now. 

“Can I put this away or are you gonna go on another suicidal attack?” Bobbi asked Skye. 

Skye gave her a noncommittal shrug. Bobbi sighed. She let go of the gun with one hand and tapped a few things on the tablet. She pushed it across the table so it was in front of Skye. At first, Skye pretended she didn’t care what was on the screen, until she realized the video was showing her Jemma. Skye sat forward immediately and looked down at the tablet’s screen. 

“We need to talk,” Bobbi said. “And we don’t have much time.” 


	12. I'll Do It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:**...feels? There's some feels. There are a lot of them actually. It's complicated?
> 
> I'm awful, I didn't get to spell/grammar check this, please feel free to comment about typos and I'll go back to fix them! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, for kudos and comments and all the love! You guys are awesome, enjoy this chapter, hopefully and definitely enjoy your holidays!  
> <3 <3
> 
> \---------

Skye couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a hot shower.  She stood in the small stall facing the torrent of boiling hot water, her hands braced against the back wall of the shower, head bent down. Strands of her hair cascaded around her face with the water. The heated liquid stung against her scrapes and bruises. Streams of the dirt and dried blood that had been caked on her dissolved into a ruddy swirl into the drain at her feet. The heat slowly relaxed her aching muscles. They had stitched up her temple and the long shallow knife wound in her side. The one in her side had been covered with a clear waterproof bandage to protect against the water and other irritants, though Skye didn’t see why that mattered now. Nothing did. All that mattered now was this last night ahead of her; her last night with Jemma.

When the heated water began to lull her into a relaxed, false sense of safety, Skye reached for the knobs and cut the water so it came out cool. She began the arduous process of cleaning the dirt, debris and crust from her hair and skin. While she went through the motions, she thought about the past few hours and what had transpired.

_Skye sat forward immediately and looked down at the tablet’s screen._

_“We need to talk,” Bobbi said. “And we don’t have much time.”_

_Skye’s brow creased. “Why is she isolation? What did you do to her?” She glared up at Bobbi._

_Bobbi’s face contorted; offended that Skye would ever think she would do something to harm Jemma. She bit her tongue on the matter because she could see how Skye might think such a thing with the way the great escape had ended for them. “We were afraid of what she might do when she woke up separated from you,” Bobbi explained._

_Skye frowned down at the tablet. Jemma slammed against the window as Fitz tried to speak to her. She railed against it again when the guards pulled Fitz out of the room. “She’s gonna hurt herself, let her go!” Skye was stricken when she saw the burst of aerosol through the pod’s window after Jemma went berserk on a camera, as she watched Jemma sink to the floor unconscious. Skye fought against the angry tears in her eyes. Was this how they planned to break her, she wondered, by using Jemma?_

_“Skye, I’m going to talk to her as soon as we’re done talking so if you want her out of there, I need you to focus and talk to me.” Bobbi moved her hand but pulled it back quickly, as if she wanted to reach out for Skye but thought better of it in Skye’s current state. There was pain in her eyes as she sat down across from Skye. She reached out to the tablet, even as Skye glared at her and tapped through a few screens. The tablet screen split into two videos. The one on the right showed a medical wing room with Parker and Jack; their hospital beds pushed together as they sat hand in hand, bandaged up and in new loose sweats. They were talking, presumably in quiet murmurs, heads bent close. The screen on the left showed Alisha and Jazz. Jazz had a few small bandages that Skye could see, one on her head, her hand wrapped up. Alisha had much more poking out from her hospital gown. Skye shuddered as she thought about what the PC Guards must have done to her. Jazz shared a bed with Alisha, tucked against her side and sleeping while Alisha calmly stroked her hair and back while constantly checking all of the entry points to the room._

_“They’re safe,” Bobbi’s voice interrupted Skye’s whirling cloud of concerned thoughts. “We’ve had the doctors check them over and patch them up.”_

_“Skip the small talk,” Skye frowned at Bobbi, ignoring May as she stood off to the side, arms crossed and sulking from her earlier interaction with Skye. Bobbi fell silent and watched Skye, waiting for her to go on. “I want all of them out of here. No more keeping them captive. No more using them as brainwashed Peace Council Guards. No more torturing them with inhibitors. You take them out of here, you protect them, and you keep them far…far away from this.”_

_Bobbi arched her eyebrows. May spoke before her, “You think we’re trying to extort you,” she said. “Is that it?”_

_Skye didn’t acknowledge May’s comment. She kept her gaze locked with Bobbi’s. “You do that and I do whatever it is you’re here to try and talk me into doing for you.”_

_“Skye-,” Bobbi began_

_“We didn’t bring you here to turn you into some kind of mercenary,” May spoke up. Bobbi tensed at the comment._

_Skye eyed them both now. “You keep saying you don’t have time but you’re both wasting it. Get to the point.”_

_“We need your help, Skye,” Bobbi said._

_“Voluntarily,” May added. “Not because you think we’re holding people hostage.”_

_Skye glared over at her. “You’ve got Jemma locked in an iso pod, and you’ve got guards on malnourished, wounded encampment prisoners.” She snapped. “Don’t tell me this isn’t a negotiation situation. You already have my terms,” She turned her eyes to Bobbi’s. “Tell me what it is that you want from me.”_

They wanted everything. They promised Skye everything she’d asked them for in return, regardless of whether she agreed to help them or not. Skye didn’t trust that May would follow through on it, but she did trust that Bobbi would take care of Jemma and the others. She turned in the water and tipped her head back, washing the soapy liquid from her short hair. She pushed the wet strands out of her face and looked down at the still healing, dark pink rings of flesh around her wrists and forearms. The infection was gone but she’d likely retain the rings around her wrists as a permanent scar tissue reminder of her time in captivity in the zone. Well, she supposed that wouldn’t be very long anymore.

_"It's a suicide mission," Skye murmured as she looked down at the open file folder in front of her, the pictures and the diagrams, the information._

_"It could be," Bobbi nodded._

_"It is," May stepped closer to the table._

_Skye tensed but didn't move._

_"You don't have to do this," May's voice was calm, quiet._

_Skye looked up at her when she realized it lacked May's usual stoic, cold cut off tone. Skye took a slow breath and glanced between them. "There's no other way?"_

_Bobbi frowned. "We've tried to get in past the barrier.  The mechanics are coded very specifically."_

_"How do you know it's only Inhumans that can cross it?" Skye asked._

_"Trial and error," May answered._

_Skye set her jaw and looked at the pictures in front of her again. "Mack?" She asked._

_Bobbi dropped her eyes to the same photo Skye was looking at. She nodded._

_Skye took a moment to process that. "Who got through?"_

_"Joey," May answered this time._

_Skye's hands pushed through the files, through the photos. They were more gruesome somehow than she was expecting. So much had been lost and Skye's only goal was to prevent more of it._

_"We want to end this, Skye," Bobbi said. "I understand if you don't believe us and don't want to help. But...we need to know so that we'll know which op we put into play."_

_Skye remained quiet for another long moment. The mission was pretty cut and dry. Skye would go into the field with a team at her back. The sole goal was to get into a specific section under the zone that had been blocked off even from the sewer entrances for the last year. Malick's teams had been setting up a portal down there. It was unclear exactly where the portal connected to, but it was a connection to a far away world. All intelligence said that if the portal was opened and a specific signal was sent through, it would alert the sentries. Skye remembered reading about the sentries in some of her mother's journals. They had been created by the ancients as a failsafe. Should the divide between the humans and Inhumans become too great and detrimental to the planet, the sentries could be summoned through the portals to pass judgement. Those found unworthy - human, Inhuman, transitioned or not - were to be eradicated._

_Skye wondered what Coulson would do in this situation. She wanted to be angry with him. She wanted to hate him for sending her on the mission that took her away from Jemma, which sent her through the horrid situations she had, in some cases, barely survived. Coulson had made that call. Skye had followed her orders. When he'd realized his mistake, Coulson had launched an operation to retrieve Skye, Alisha and Lincoln from the zone to bring them home. The operation had launched almost simultaneously as the event that led to the Lock-down and Blitz._

_Coulson, May, Bobbi, Mack, and Joey with a host of agents had made it into the Zone just before the lock down. They made it into the sewers, trying to follow maps Skye had managed to get out to them a few weeks before. They hadn't counted on a diversion in the sewers from the map Skye gave them. The obstruction had led them to the discovery of the portal. They didn't try to breach the barriers then. They gathered as much intel as they could but Coulson ordered them out of the sewers to continue their search._

_While Skye and Alisha were battling their way out of the sewers with their breathers on, they had gotten within one block of each other; the PCG had managed to get hold of Coulson. The stand off that ensued was brutal. The PCG waited for their helo pick up with their new prize. She had missed Coulson's cues to May, but she had seen May drop the guard on her as they were dragging Coulson to the helo before rounding and putting two in him; one in the chest, the other in the head. In the next moment fire volleyed back and forth. May was hit in the gut and Alisha had dragged Skye away._

_Skye clenched her eyes shut at the memory. She had been over the file now, the protocols Coulson had put in place. He had some form of knowledge Malick needed and Coulson didn't want him to access it in any way, shape or form to the point that he had sworn his second in command to do the unthinkable. Skye released a shaky breath._

_"I'll do it," Skye answered them finally._

Skye cut the water in the shower. She stood for a few moments as the last of the droplets of water dripped from her body. With stiff, mechanical movement reached for the towels left in the room to dry her hair and skin. Stepping from the small standing shower onto the cool tiles of the bathroom floor, she stopped in front of the sink and mirror. Her eyes scanned the reflection of her beaten and broken body. She took in the bruises, the stitches, the sharp angle of her hip and rib bones, the way her eyes were sunken ringed in dark circles surrounding them, accented by her sharp cheekbones. She stared at her reflection until she could no longer stand staring at her own ghost and instead tugged on the sweatpants and t-shirt she had been given on her walk to the showers. Once she had her lace less canvas slip on shoes onto her feet, the guards escorted her somewhere she thought she'd never see again; her and Jemma's dorm room.

\--

Jemma felt the grogginess as she stirred from her induced sleep.

"Simmons," Bobbi's voice floated through the intercom. Jemma's eyes popped open wide and she instantly shot bolt upright. She was on her feet a moment later and was about to bash right into the glass of the window when she spotted the tablet Bobbi had pressed to the glass of the window. The video was a shot of Skye lying on her and Jemma's bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to breathe as calmly as possible. Jemma's eyes jumped back and forth between the screen and Bobbi.

"The medics patched her up. She's had a shower and some food. The others are in the medical wing. They're all together. The doctors are monitoring them." Bobbi explained. Jemma's eyes wandered more slowly now between Bobbi and the screen. Her hand touched the glass in front of the screen. "I want to take you to Skye," Bobbi said. She waited and Jemma's eyes met hers through the glass. "To do that, I need to be able to take you to have your wounds patched and to clean you up. I need to know that you're not going to attack anyone if we let out of the pod." She waited a moment. "Can you promise me that, Jemma?"

Jemma was desperate to get to Skye. She wanted to make sure the others were okay but the biggest need for her was to be in the same room as Skye, to touch her, to know she was alright. She nodded. "Y-yes..." Jemma stammered. "Yes, I can. I promise - please, Bobbi, I need-,"

"I know," Bobbi cut her off in a gentle tone. She was quiet a moment. "I did not betray you, Jemma," She insisted. "I need you to know that."

Jemma regarded Bobbi carefully. She pressed her lips together tightly and gave Bobbi a small nod, though she still felt a bit skeptical.

"Let's get you out of there, okay?" Bobbi asked. Jemma nodded and stepped to the door. Bobbi punched in some codes and the door opened. Jemma fought the urge to run, gripping her hands into tight fists at her sides. Bobbi handed her the tablet and Jemma followed her and a handful of guards to a medical examination room.

\--

Skye laid in the bed she used to share with Jemma, her sense overwhelmed by the familiar scent she so rarely had been able to take in over the last few years. Hardly anything had changed about the room. Skye’s things were still in places she had left them. Jemma’s work was still spread throughout the place in piles of books and papers, flash drives and discs. She spotted her computer on the desk but didn’t attempt to reach for it.

Skye knew there were cameras in the room. She knew there were audio recorders too. She didn’t care about either. It didn’t matter now anyhow. She lay in the bed and stared at the ceiling. For a long while she closed her eyes and took slow deep breaths through her nose, memorizing the scent the way she always tried to memorize Jemma’s face, afraid of losing the image, the scent, Jemma’s touch from her memory.

When she heard the telltale heavy thump of military boots in the hall, Skye opened her eyes and sat up. She swung her now bare feet over the edge of the bed and waited. When the electronic lock on the door released, Skye had already pushed herself to her feet. She initially started to raise her hands up but stopped. No one was coming to mess with her. They needed her. They needed her abilities in order to keep the portal closed, to destroy its only possibility of opening.

There was a moment of suspended time as Skye watched the open door before someone finally came through the threshold. By the time she registered that it was Jemma, the woman was already at a full sprint. Skye had enough time to open her arms to catch Jemma. The moment they collided, Skye inhaled a hiss of pain but her arms had already wrapped as tightly around Jemma as she could possibly squeeze them. A couple of sobs escaped Jemma, who held on around Skye’s neck and shoulders so tightly that she was gripping the backs of her own arms to lock them around her. Her face burrowed into Skye’s hair and shoulder. She was shaking so bad Skye almost didn’t know how she was standing.

Skye held tightly to her, stroked her hair and her back between fits of gripping handfuls of her hoodie. “It’s okay,” she murmured into Jemma’s ear. It was a falsehood, she knew but Jemma needed to hear it. “It’s okay, Jem, I’m right here,” she curbed her own tears and kept her voice as steady and gentle as possible. Each of them peppered random kisses into each other’s hair, against shoulders, necks, ears, anywhere that they could reach without letting go of each other.

“They wouldn’t…l-let me see you,” Jemma said between sniffles and huffs for air.

“I know,” Skye pressed a kiss above Jemma’s ear and went back to murmuring against it. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Everything’s alright, Jem. We’re okay.” Skye hated herself for the lie, but if Jemma knew the plan, she wasn’t going to agree to let Skye go on some suicide mission just to keep her safe. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Jemma pulled back, cupped her hands over Skye’s cheeks and began to kiss her repeatedly. “Are you,” She asked between the burst of kissed. “Okay? Are you…are you hurt?” She broke away to look Skye over.

Skye nodded, breathless. “I’m alright,” she assured. “I love you,” She repeated before she pulled Jemma closer and kissed her. It took moments of murmuring the phrase back and forth between their breathless kisses before they toppled to the bed in a heap of limbs. It wasn’t until Jemma’s lungs were ready to burst that she broke their kisses, legs wrapped around Skye’s hips, hands on either side of Skye’s face, along the back of her jaw, thumbs against her angled cheekbones. As Skye’s hair fell against her arms and the ends tickled her cheeks, Jemma felt the wet heat of the tear that had suddenly begun falling from Skye’s eyes.

Skye held her weight on her hands on the mattress on either side of Jemma’s shoulders. She stared down through her blurry vision at the concern on Jemma’s face, her mouth agape as she tried to catch her breath while also trying to simultaneously speak and keep from sobbing. She tried to murmur an apology but Jemma was already talking.

“What’s wrong?” Jemma asked in the gasps of breaths. “Are you hurt?” she asked again. She’d known that Skye had been wounded before they’d been brought back to the base. She didn’t know the extent of her injuries. Jemma brushed Skye’s hair out of her face and gently wiped at her cheeks. “Tell me,” she whispered across the space between them, “It’s okay,” She stroked Skye’s cheek gently. “Tell me whatever it is,” she prodded.

Skye tried to rein it in. She tried, and failed, to keep her voice from cracking. “I…I never…” She sniffled and Jemma reached to comb her fingers through her hair again, waiting as patiently as she could while filled with concern. “I never thought I’d…I’d be here with you again,” The flood of tears came back as she spoke. In the next moment, Jemma’s arms laced around her neck and shoulders and pulled her down into a fierce hug, cradling the back of her neck and head by her hair. Skye dropped, wrestled her arms around Jemma and held on.

Jemma kissed the side of her head and her shoulder. She rocked lightly with Skye in her arms and whispered reassurances until the emotional swell had passed for them both. They fell back in together, occasional tears still spilling from each of their eyes as they rolled together, peeling clothes away, groping and kissing everywhere they could. Jemma gasped when she felt the bandage on Skye’s side and discovered the garish stretch of stitches.

Skye’s chest and stomach heaved trying to catch her breath. She leaned her forehead down to Jemma’s so she could lock their gazes. Jemma stared at her, eyes welled again at the injuries and the terrible things Skye had gone through. “I’m here,” Skye murmured. “Stay with me…I n-need…” She couldn’t finish the thought but it didn’t matter since Jemma’s lips were back on hers a moment later. She carefully rolled them over, conscious of trying to avoid hurting Skye until their rolling about the mattress reached a fever pitch both needed.

\--

Both Jemma and Skye were fighting the urge to sleep. They lay in bed, on their sides, covers pooled around them, watching each other’s faces. Skye’s eyes traveled around the entirety of Jemma’s face. Her fingers traced gently along Jemma’s arm, shoulder and back, dipped into the strands of her hair, traced the curve of her face. Her other arm was under Jemma on the mattress, curled around Jemma to hold her close. Skye refused to sleep. If this was her last night with Jemma, she was determined to soak it all in as long as possible. She absorbed it all; the smattering of freckles all across Jemma’s forehead and shoulders, the line of her lips, the look in Jemma’s eyes as Jemma’s fingers caressed Skye’s skin, the sound of her slowly evening breaths, the hum of her hushed voice as she whispered an endearment, the feel of her lips when she stole a kiss. Skye refused sleep, but she could see that Jemma was losing the battle against it she fought.

“It’s okay,” Skye promised again. “You can sleep,” she kissed Jemma’s forehead gently. Jemma shook her head but stifled a yawn into Skye’s shoulder. Skye shifted and pulled Jemma closer, further tangling together, bare flesh to bare flesh, soaking in the warmth the contact brought. “I love you,” She murmured a few times as she stroked Jemma’s hair and back, lulling her into sleep even as she sleepily whispered the endearments back to Skye until she finally lost her fight and relaxed into slow, even breaths against Skye’s collar.

Skye still refused sleep. “I love you, Jem,” she whispered when she was sure Jemma was out cold. “I’m sorry…”

Eventually there was no longer a way to fight it off and Skye nodded off for a couple of short hours.


	13. It's Time To Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** Feels. Lots of them. 
> 
>  
> 
> <3 Thank you guys as always for everything, you rock! Forgive me my typos, once again uploading from mobile! 
> 
> :)   
> <3  
> 

Skye woke first. She was unable to keep her mind silent, knowing what lay ahead for both of them. She opened her eyes but moved no other muscles for fear of waking Jemma, who was sleeping soundly tucked against Skye’s side, arms around her middle and face pressed into the crook of Skye’s neck. Skye timed the soft exhaled puffs of air that blew against her collarbone to the maddening tick of the wall clock across the room, the only sound in the room aside from their breathing. In an hour, they would come for her. They were going to have to restrain Jemma in order to take her. Skye knew that. Jemma would never let them just march her away regardless of whether or not Skye had already pledged to go.

Skye knew how the argument would go – Jemma would demand to go along, would remind her that they’d both promised that they were in this together or not at all, would never forgive her for going back on her word on that. Skye could only hope that Jemma would understand why she made the deal she’d made. She couldn’t, in good conscience, agree to what amounted (essentially) to a suicide mission without knowing she’d done all she could to ensure Jemma and the others were taken care of and she damn sure wasn’t taking Jemma with her on the mission.

Skye closed her eyes.

She tried to focus only on the immediate moment. Nothing else mattered but each of the individual seconds as they ticked by on the clock. She focused on how it felt to be home, lying in _their_ bed with Jemma wrapped up in her arms. Jemma was safe. She had a bruise and a scratch or two, but she was safe. They were together, even if only for another…fifty-eight minutes.

Jemma stirred. She stretched and inhaled a breath through her nose and, as if that inhale assured her through scent alone that Skye was still there, she settled back against Skye’s side. Skye remained still. She wanted to wake Jemma. At the same time she didn’t want to wake Jemma and bring whatever pleasant dream she was having to an abrupt end with the news of what was going to happen.

_Tick. Tock._

_Tick. Tock._

_Tick. Tock._

Time was not on their side. Instead, it weighed heavily on Skye side by side with her guilt. It pressed into her chest and collar with Jemma’s cheek and palm. She felt overcome with a sudden urgency to gently shake Jemma awake and tell her that they needed to gather Alisha, Jasmine, Parker and Jack and get the hell out of there and they only had…fifty-five minutes left to do it. They had to hustle.

Skye shifted. It was a slight movement. She turned her head down and kissed the top of Jemma’s head, shifted her arm and combed her fingers through the ends of Jemma’s hair. Jemma stretched her legs and wormed closer. Skye knew she was awake when her muscles tensed. Jemma had opened her eyes and, for just a couple of ticks on the second hand of the clock, needed a moment to let her senses adjust long enough to remember where she was and who was with her.

“Hey,” Skye spoke softly, just to assure Jemma that she was actually there.

Jemma closed her eyes again and burrowed closer into the crook of her neck. “Hullo,” she murmured between a couple of quick kissed pressed against Skye’s neck and collar, her voice still thick with sleep. Skye lingered, leaving her lips pressed against Jemma’s hair, taking a deep breath through her nose to really take in Jemma’s scent, to let it fill up her senses as if it might block reality out. If it weren’t for the ticking reminder of the wall clock, it might’ve worked.

Jemma shifted. She moved until she was face to face with Skye, who turned onto her side a bit more, with a bit of extra effort since her body was stiff and achy. Skye’s eyes roamed over Jemma’s face. She reached out to run the tips of her fingers down the angled curve of Jemma’s face and Jemma smiled warmly at her.

“I wish we had more time,” The words were out before Skye could stop them.

Jemma’s brow furrowed. She reached out to cup Skye’s gaunt face in her hand. Skye closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. “We don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Jemma whispered. She watched Skye’s face carefully, leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth carefully. “I won’t let them take you away again.” It was a solemn swear.

Skye’s eyes were pooled with tears when she opened them. “Jem…” Skye said her name and then cleared her throat.

Jemma frowned. She kissed Skye’s forehead, pulled Skye to her and folded Skye into her arms. “It’s okay,” she assured. “It’s okay now. You’re safe,” Jemma insisted.

Skye wrapped her arms tightly around Jemma, buried her face into the crook of her neck. She held on tight, as if letting go meant she would never again hold Jemma in her arms. Skye knew that was exactly what it meant. She sniffled and kissed Jemma’s shoulder. “We should get dressed.” She murmured after a few more minutes.

Jemma felt reluctant to let Skye go, but she did. She relinquished her hold but not without a long, lingering kiss. She pressed their foreheads together and took hold of Skye gently by the sides of her face. “I love you,” She said, hoping to assuage what she assumed were Skye’s nerves acting up.

Before Skye could force her expression back into neutrality, her genuine fear flashed across her face and a single tear escaped her left eye. It left a tacky, salty laden streak in its wake down the sharp contour of her gaunt cheek. The pad of Jemma’s thumb swiped across it, the touch ghost like to Skye’s flesh. She swallowed against the dry lump in her throat and whispered. “I love you, Jem.”

Jemma’s brow furrowed but she said nothing else. With reluctance, they separated and made their way into the bits of clothing that they hadn’t wound into before falling asleep. Jemma sent occasional furtive glances at Skye as they moved about the room in silence. Skye move stiffly. She also kept staring at the wall clock, growing ever anxious as the hands continued their orbit of the hour.

“Jems,” Skye stood up after she finished tying the laces on her boot. She took a tentative step toward Jemma and then hesitated when she reached out for her.

Something clicked then, in Jemma’s head. Her brain caught up. It put the clues together as she looked at Skye and saw the pain and anxiety twisting the muscles in her face.   
  
“There’s something I want to tell you,” Skye took two steps closer to Jemma, mustering her courage. She reached for Jemma’s arm. Her fingers traced Jemma’s bare arm from the bottom of her t-shirt sleeve, pausing at the back of her curved elbow to urge her closer. Her right hand reached out to tuck stray strands of Jemma’s hair, they’d come free from the loose ponytail she’d tied up, off her forehead and behind her ear. Skye’s touch was gentle, deliberate and restrained from the desperation she felt to crush Jemma to her and never let her go.

Jemma’s eyes darted back and forth in rapid fury as they stared into Skye’s, searching for an answer to an as of yet unasked question. Her mind screamed at her, _something’s wrong! What did you miss? What didn’t they tell you? What didn’t **Skye** tell you? _The questions fired off in the back of her mind as she unconsciously shuffled closer to Skye in reflex to the touch.

“You can tell me over breakfast,” Jemma suggested. She forced a small smile, hoping against the angry twisting in her gut that she was wrong, that it was just her own anxiety bleeding over from all they’d been through the last through years. “You must be starving,” She reasoned as she settled a hand against Skye’s collarbone and shoulder.

Skye’s gaze shifted to the wall clock.

_Tick. Tock._

_Tick. Tock._

_Tick. Tock._

They would come for Skye in sixteen minutes and thirty-five seconds. Skye turned back to Jemma. Against her will, her eyes began to well. She felt the telltale burn in the bridge of her nose. “There’s not enough time,” She whispered.

Though the comment explained nothing, it solidified the seriousness of whatever Skye was harboring. Jemma felt her heart seize immediately in her chest before it migrated to her throat and swelled her tongue, making speech difficult. Her own eyes welled as she took half a step closer to Skye, reflexive. “What did you do?” Her voice was so quiet Skye would have assumed she’d imagined it if she hadn’t watched Jemma’s lips move.

Skye swallowed. “I made a deal.” She confessed. “It’d the only way I could protect…” Skye paused and cleared her throat. She gave her head a quick jog to jar her thoughts free. Her hand cupped the edge of Jemma’s cheek and jaw. Her eyes never left Jemma’s. “I’m going to end this,” she said. “Once and for all. There are some things I need to tell you before it’s too late.” She didn’t want to blurt them out when Jemma was reeling from the realization that Skye had been lying only hours ago when she’d said everything as okay, that they were alright now. She wanted to be sure that Jemma remembered every word.

“Wha…y-you can’t…” Jemma stammered. She stepped closer until their knees knocked, and gripped Skye’s sweat jacket in balled material beneath her fists. “I just got you back – you can’t leave me, no!” The tears came with no regard to Jemma’s need to be as coherent as possible right now. Sobs followed them and Skye at once enveloped the smaller woman in her arms.

Jemma clawed free from Skye’s jacket and wrapped her arms as tightly around Skye’s neck and shoulders as she could, holding so tightly that her hands were gripping the back of her own  arms, nails digging into her flesh in stubborn refusal to let go. “No – undo it! Whatever it is, you have to tell them no!” She went on through her sobs.

Skye clenched her eyes shut and held on tightly to Jemma, her own fingers digging into the material against her back. She felt the hot tears seeping from Jemma’s eyes and dropping against the top of her own ear as Jemma’s lips murmured desperate please into her ear. Skye wanted so badly to give into the temptation. She wanted it more than anything she had ever dated to want or hope for in her life before.

“I have to,” Skye said. “I have what they need. There’s no other way to make sure…” Skye sniffled, fighting her own emotions the whole way as Jemma clawed at her and murmured protests through her sobs. Each murmur, each sob was another stab wound through her chest, another painful mark to join all the scars of the past. She tried to explain what the team needed of her, but Jemma continued to bag and plead for any other solution to anything Skye said.

“Jems,” The side of Skye’s head was tucked tight against Jemma’s, her lips pressed to Jemma’s ear. She could hear the clock reverberating incessantly in the back of her mind and there was still so much she had to tell Jemma that had nothing to do with the mission.

_Tick. Tock_

_Tick. Tock._

_Tick. Tock._

“Jems,” Skye said her name again. “I don’t have a lot of time,” She whispered. She fought and forced her voice to stay as even as possible. She needed Jemma to hear her. One hand braced against the spot between Jemma’s shoulders, holding Jemma firmly to her while the other cradled the back of Jemma’s head as she burrowed into the crook of Skye’s neck and shoulder. She trembled in Skye’s arms and she cried and Skye felt a deep seeded hatred toward herself for doing this to the one person that matter the most to her in this damn universe. “Listen to me, okay?” she begged Jemma, who could only just barely nod as she clung to Skye and bawled.

Skye inhaled a steadying breath. “I love you – I love you wholly and completely, there is no other living being I have ever loved in the entirety of my life more than I love you. And…” She paused, sniffled as softly as she could and swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. “I never, um…I-I never knew it was possible that…anyone could ever love me unconditionally…there’s nothing I could, I could ever do to, to repay you or…or equal what you’ve given me.”

Jemma broke her grip just enough for Skye to pull back so she could press her forehead to Jemma’s. She reached for Jemma’s cheek with one of her hands and tried to fight the onslaught of tears cascading down Jemma’s cheeks.

“I love you, Jem,” Skye repeated it as Jemma’s hands framed her face.

_Tick. Tock._

_Tick. Tock._

_Tick. Tock._

Skye cut Jemma’s next plea for her not to leave off with a long string of kisses, blurting another, “I love you,” between each of their breaks for air, between each hollow sob Jemma couldn’t restrict. Skye felt the heavy weight of anticipation on her as she heard the heavy thump of boots coming down the hall.

Jemma’s arms wound around her again as if holding on would prevent anyone from taking Skye away from her. Both of them were freely crying now, Skye silently, Jemma still trying to bargain between her proclamations of love, between the random kisses they stole, or dotted along shoulders and temples and any reachable spot.

There came a knock on the door and Jemma gasped. She stood on her tip toes and tightened her grip around Skye’s neck. “No,” she shook her head as much as she could with the way it was against Skye’s. “They can’t have you – No.”

“I love you,” Skye kissed Jemma’s ear. “Please forgive me,” she whispered.

The door opened and Bobbi stepped in. There were armed guards with her. Skye put a hand up, not threatening them, just letting Bobbi know that they needed an extra moment. Bobbi signaled to the guards to stand down.

“Jems,” She whispered into Jemma’s ear. “It’s time to go…”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Jemma sniffled, her voice thick with emotion, though all of the words smashed together into a quick train of murmurs. “Take me with you – W-e can’t separate again!”

“Jems-,”

“You promised!” Jemma let the outburst out with a sob. “You p-promised me! W-we do this together o-or not at all!” Jemma’s fingers dug into Skye’s back. “You promised me!”

Skye clenched her eyes shut against the sharp violent stabs of pain her in chest at everything she was no putting Jemma through. “I can’t…” She cleared her throat. “I can’t do this without knowing you’ll be safe…I-I need you…I need you to take care of Jaz, Alisha and the others.” She sniffled. “I love you, Jems. I can’t lose you to this…I love you.”

Skye tried to untangle from Jemma but Jemma clung tighter, she caught her in a string of desperate kisses. Skye returned every kiss, tried her best to keep what little bit of composure she had remaining. “It’s time to go,” She whispered through a sniffle. The guards shifted, clearly anxious, the moved closer to Skye and Jemma. Bobbi held them back but cleared her throat. There was only so much she could do, though her own eyes were welled with emotion as she watched the scene in front of her.

“I love you,” Skye said as two of the guards moved to pull Jemma away. Skye balled her fists and forced her arms to her sides, fighting the tremors in her hands, fighting against everything within her that told her she shouldn’t let them even think about touching Jemma. They had a job and that job was to remove Jemma. The others were there to escort Skye out.

They had Jemma almost to the door, struggling and screaming at them to let her go, screaming Skye’s name, before all her work with Bobbi in sparring kicked in. In seconds she had dropped them both to her knees and was rushing back to Skye. Bobbi forced the guards to stand down, forcing them out over the threshold of the door into the hallway.

Skye unfurled her fists and opened her arms in time to collide with Jemma. “Jems-,”

“Please, S-Skye! Don’t do this to me!” Jemma begged. “We can run,” She insisted. “We can run, please don’t do this-,”

“I promise you, Jem,” Skye spoke as calmly as she could. “If there’s any way that I can make it back to you…I will find you.” She swore. Jemma stared at her, their eyes locking through both of their tears. Skye kissed her one last time and the guards stepped forward again. It took four of them while Bobbi ordered them to make sure she was unharmed under threat of castration by her.

Skye remained purposefully rooted to her spot, trembling fists clenched tightly at her sides, tears freely flowing from her eyes, jaw clenched tight. She flinched every time Jemma screamed out her name or screamed out that she loved her. Bobbi composed herself and stepped closer toward Skye once Jemma’s cries had disappeared down whatever corridor they took her.

Skye fixed Bobbi with a glare that could’ve melted sand into glass. Bobbi stopped her approach. Skye stepped forward to the doorway. She held her hands out and let a guard snap shackles around them. “If you let anything happen to her,” Skye said, her voice steady and deathly calm. “I will come back for you,” The unspoken, ‘ _from the grave if I have to,_ ’ was clear in her tone.

Bobbi gave Skye a silent, solemn nod.

Skye returned the gesture and then stepped out of the room. Four guards squared her, two in front, two behind and she followed their pace down the hall with Bobbi in tow. First, they would go for the Ops briefing. Next they’d gear up.

After that, Skye would be headed back into the Zone.


	14. Find You

  
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Skye spoke up as May came over to sit next to her on the transport jet. She kept her eyes forward, focused on the wall across from the seat she was in but out of her peripheral vision she saw May’s shoulders sag slightly.   
  
“Good,” May sat next to Skye and leaned over, resting her weight on her elbows on the tops of her knees. She clasped her hands together and looked over at Skye, watched as Skye pointed stared away from her. “You can listen,” she said.   
  
Skye tensed. Still reeling from her goodbyes with Jemma and overwhelmed by what lay ahead of her, she wasn’t sure she had it in her to handle any more information, especially information that would carry heavy emotions. She clenched her jaw but made no indication that she’d heard what May said.   
  
“He was as important to me as Simmons is to you,” May said. Her tone was guarded, stoic, a strong façade cobbled together to hold up the broken parts inside her. Skye said nothing, sticking to her original statement of having nothing to say to May, though she was listening even if she wasn’t looking at May. “You are that important to me,” May’s voice was a touch softer than it was for the first part of her statement and that in conjunction with her words drew Skye’s attention enough to make her look at May.   
  
“I understand if you don’t believe me,” May went on. “If we had more time, I would tell you everything, Skye,” She was the one to look away now and at the floor now. “After lockdown, after Phil…we did what we could to cover Jemma’s tracks when she came to meet with you. It was safer if she didn’t know we, Bobbi and I, knew. If we could have plotted a raid to get you out of there without compromising the whole mission, we would have, Skye. I…” May reached for Skye’s arm but stopped and pulled her hand back into her lap at the last minute.   
  
“You don’t have to-,”   
  
“Yes,” May cut Skye’s uncomfortable protest off. “I do.” She looked over at Skye. “I am not taking you back there to die.” She said, tone resolute.   
  
Skye fell silent as she studied May’s eyes. It was always the one place she could look to know whether or not the older woman was lying to her. “It doesn’t matter,” Skye told her. She turned her head away and looked at the floor.   
  
“It does,” May replied before Skye could speak further. “We’re not leaving there without you.”   
  
The muscles in Skye’s face contorted with tension. “I’m not looking for you to sacrifice yourselves as some kind of penance.” Skye frowned at May.   
  
“That’s not-,”   
  
“It is what you’re talking about,” Skye cut her off. “No one else needs to die for me.” Too many already had. She knew they would lose soldiers in this fight to get to the portal. That was a given. It didn’t mean that May, Bobbi or any of the others should give up on their lives so they could do the whole ‘no soldier left behind,’ thing. More importantly, Bobbi and May would be necessary to keep their word on keeping Jemma and the others safe. “As soon as I reach the portal, I’ll radio you and you’ll pull the team out. That’s the plan. That’s how it’s going down.” Skye left no room for argument.   
  
\---   
  
Alisha watched Jemma very carefully. Hours ago in the morning, soldiers had dragged Jemma into the medical bay where Alisha, Jasmine, Parker and Jack were being treated and held. Jemma had been thrashing so wildly that she’d been sedated and restrained to a bed. Alisha watched Jemma sleep restlessly through the sedation for a couple hours before she climbed from her own bed and crossed to the one Jemma was confined to. She grabbed a chair and moved it next to Jemma’s bed. With great care, Alisha slipped her hand into Jemma’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. She stayed there by Jemma’s side, waiting patiently until the woman’s sedated sleep turned slightly fitful and, eventually, she woke up.   
  
Alisha watched as Jemma’s eyes cracked opened. She was groggy and out of it but slowly, as she looked around the room, reality set in. Jemma moved to sit up and immediately groaned and pressed the heel of her hand to her temple. “Easy,” Alisha said gently as she put a hand on Jemma’s arm to steady her.   
  
“Skye,” Jemma moved to swing her feet over the edge of the bed by Alisha stopped her. Jemma blinked and stared at the redhead in confusion.   
  
Alisha glanced briefly over her shoulder and then moved to sit on the edge of the bed. She collected Jemma in a tight hug and pressed her face into Jemma’s hair so she could whisper into her ear. “I won’t be able to get you out of here if they come and try to sedate you again.”   
  
Jemma froze a moment. She wrapped her arms around Alisha and blocked the movement of her mouth with Alisha’s shoulder. “I don’t know what they’ve done with her.” She confessed with a great deal of fear laced through her tone.   
  
“Fitz is taking care of that,” Alisha assured her, rocking slightly out of habit the way Skye used to calm her when she couldn’t quite communicate what she wanted.   
  
“She left,” Jemma sniffled, unable to stop her emotions in the moment. “She left without me.”   
  
“We both know she would have never done it if she thought the cause wasn’t important.” Alisha pointed out. “And we both know she wouldn’t allow you to be put in danger again.”   
  
“It was my choice to make,” Jemma nearly snapped but Alisha gripped her tighter and shushed her.   
  
“We can’t change what already happened,” Alisha told her.   
  
“I can’t lose her,” Jemma sniffled.   
  
“We’re going to get you to her,” Alisha said, despite her own reluctance. “But I need you to ask yourself if you’re sure that’s what you want, given the circumstances.”   
  
“I can’t lose her,” Jemma said it more firmly this time.   
  
Alisha nodded. “Okay,” she exhaled a slow breath. Alisha lifted her hand and pressed a button on the watch on her wrist, one that Fitz had given her. “Fitz will be here in ten minutes. I need to you listen very carefully to everything I’m about to say because once he’s here, there won’t be time to explain. Understand?”   
  
Jemma exhaled and nodded. “Tell me.”   
  
\---   
  
“Down!” Skye shouted it as she dove for and tackled Bobbi through the doorframe she was leaning around to shoot at the unit of PCGs blockading the street they needed to pass. Bobbi expelled an ‘Oof!’ of air as Skye collided with her and they tumbled down to the floor of the front room abandoned storefront they were in. Skye pushed off of Bobbi and scrambled on her hands and knees toward the door just as one of the PCGs was rush the steps. She threw her hand out in front of her before he could shoot and sent the guard sailing off the front steps and across the street. She rushed down the front stairs, ducked behind the stone and marble that framed the steps and sent a short blast toward the blockade, which caused the PCGs to scramble to duck the bullets that suddenly flew back at them.   
  
“Skye!” Bobbi shouted.   
  
“Stay down!” Skye shouted back. When she hit the sidewalk pavement, she turned toward the blockade, ground her teeth tight together and as she dropped to one knee, slammed her palm down into the ground. The cement below her hand shattered and shockwaves rippled forward from her hand, violently shaking the ground down the block under the blockade and past it all the way down the next path. A sink hole opened up as one of the old sewer passages below the street caved in, causing a number of vehicles to fall in and injuring and killing some of the guards. Bobbi popped up, angled in one of the windows and took out three of the guards as they moved to get back into firing positon. From across the street, May and a handful of soldiers made it into positon and opened fire to take out the remaining blockade.   
  
Skye breathlessly stood up and rushed down the block with May, Bobbi and the others hot on her heels. May shouted orders but kept close to Skye and Bobbi. Skye knew May was keeping on her to keep her alive long enough to complete what was essentially a suicide mission. She wasn’t sure how ironic that was on the scale but Skye didn’t have all that much time to think too much on it.   
  
“We need to get underground!” Skye shouted to May.   
  
The group paused and ducked into a storefront when they heard the telltale chuh-chuh-chuh-chuh sound of helicopter blades.   
  
“Breathers!” Bobbi shouted and at once they all scrambled to pull their breathers on to avoid a possible blitz.   
  
Skye turned to May. “We need to get underground, now.” She said from behind her mask.   
  
“They’re going to be down their too,” One of May’s agents informed Skye.   
  
“There are less access points to attack us down there. We need to get underground and keep going,” Skye said.   
  
May nodded and called out orders as she let Skye lead the way.   
  
\---   
  
“Sooner rather than later, whiz kid,” Alisha grunted at Fitz. She was standing calmly next to him while copies of herself fended off the guards attempting to break into the sealed containment unit the group of them (Alisha, Fitz, Jack, Parker, Jemma and Jasmine) were hunkered down in. Fitz had deactivated the outer controls. He knew they might be able to break in if they had a few hours of time but he didn’t think they’d manage that while Alisha’s copies were knocking them out every time they approached.   
  
“Working as fast as I can,” Fitz murmured. His fingers flew in a blurred flurry across the digital screen. He deliberately avoided eye contact with Jemma since he knew he would beg her to reconsider this if their eyes met. Skye chose this path specifically to protect Jemma. Fitz knew that, had she been able to talk to him, she would have sworn Fitz to protect Jemma in her absence. Jemma was his best friend. He knew that doing this meant he was likely sending her to her death.   
  
“Thank you, Fitz,” Jemma spoke softly from her spot next to him, as if she’d read the thoughts right off the concentration creases etched into his forehead. Fitz paused, just for half a breath, and looked over at the determination pulled into the taut muscles of her face. This was her decision. Fitz knew that. Still. He nodded and got back to work.   
  
“We’re going to need to open the container in order for Jack’s portal to be able to connect,” Fitz said. He put the tablet down on the floor and a three dimensional map projected out of it as if it was its own mini travel holotable. A map popped up in multiple levels with a blinking tracker in what looked like an underground area. The tracker, which had been implanted in Skye’s arm, was stopped in place. Fitz flung his hands about and zoomed out. “Does this look familiar to you?” He asked Jack.   
  
Jack’s eyes shifted back and forth, studying the map. Fitz turned the hologram to different angles to let Jack get a full view. “Yes!” Jack nodded. He rattled off the names of the street corner and the buildings on the street, including the one that Skye seemed to be inside the basement of; however stalled she was at the moment.   
  
Fitz nodded. He looked to Alisha, who gave him a nod to let him know she was ready on his command. He turned back to Jemma. “Jem-,” He started to say but she cut him off.   
  
“I have to,” She told Fitz. “Please understand.” She sniffled. Jemma was petrified. That had always been the case and she knew it would always be the case. Courage wasn’t a matter of not being afraid, it was a matter of being afraid but doing something despite the fear. Jemma refused to break the promise she’d made with Skye. Together or not at all. If this was the end for Skye, it was the end for Jemma and there was nothing more to talk about. She didn’t want to die. She knew Skye didn’t want to die. She was meant to be with Skye and she wanted no life without her. She didn’t want Skye to die alone on top of everything else they’d been through. “I have to,” She said again.   
  
Fitz’s head bobbed in a single, solemn nod and they embraced tightly, murmured their last goodbyes. He nodded to Alisha, who gave them a countdown before she jacked open the container from the inside. She surged out with her clones to fight and gave them enough room for Jack to get the portal set up outside the container. The glowing purple orb started in his palm, Jack grunting with the strain. He tossed the orb out of the container, where it suspended a foot above the ground. His palm remained aimed at it and it expended to just about Jemma’s height.   
  
“Go!” Jack shouted when he knew the portal was connected and fully open.   
  
Jemma jumped to her feet, raced out of the pod and jumped through the glowing, swirling purple mass without looking back.   
  
\--   
  
“This is as far as you go,” Skye pushed away from Bobbi, who had been supporting her weight as they made it into the subterranean levels below the basement of the so-called ‘health services’ building in the zone. Many Inhumans had been sent into the building for their ‘cure’ shots only to be murdered or used as lab rats. Turned out one of the things they were working on was a beacon. The goal was to alert the celestials of the awakened deviants to prompt a return to wipe the deviants out. The true outcome of such communication would be destruction of humanity as a whole, not in unwanted parts. Skye had the ability to synchronize the frequencies within to block the beacon while destroying it, allowing the planet to remain safe.   
  
“I see every mission through to the end-,” Bobbi tried to protest.   
  
“This is the end. For you,” Skye stepped back, unsteady on her feet as the result of a couple of broken ribs and a through-and-through bullet she’d taken in the side. She was stooped slightly, cradling her bleeding side and injured ribs with one hand while holding the other out, palm up, toward Bobbi to keep her at a distance.   
  
“Skye-,”   
  
“It’s unstable,” Skye blurted. She locked her eyes with Bobbi. “I can feel it.” Even if she couldn’t feel it reverberating through every atom in her body, they both already knew the beacon was unstable. Otherwise, this wouldn’t have been a very obvious suicide mission. “This is as far as you go.” Skye repeated.   
  
“Skye,” Bobbi stepped closer and Skye let her do so but kept her still at arm’s length. “You don’t have to do-,”   
  
“Yes. I do. And you need to leave,” Skye repeated as she watched Bobbi’s eyes glass over. She’d been extremely hard on both Bobbi and May. Bitter. She’d been bitter about the situation. There wasn’t enough time for processing. She didn’t have enough energy to expend for it. “Get May out of here. Take her back to the base. Evacuate. Keep them safe.” She’d demanded this of Bobbi because she knew she could trust Bobbi to take care of Jemma and the others. She would sacrifice her life in an instant for theirs if a threat arose. Skye was grateful for that but there wasn’t time for sentiment. There was only time for decisive action.   
  
“Go.” It wasn’t a shout but it was a command, ground out through Skye’s gritted teeth. Bobbi stepped toward Skye, preparing to pull her into a hug. Skye stepped back. “Go!” She shouted this time. Bobbi had no choice. She forced herself to turn and started running.   
  
\--   
  
“Go back!” May shouted. “You can’t stay!” She had Jemma by the shoulders and was trying to force her back through the purple mass she’d fallen out of moments before.   
  
“Let go!” Jemma struggled in May’s grasp. “Where’s Skye?!” she demanded.   
  
“She’s already down there! Jemma you can’t save her! It’s our only option-,”   
  
Jemma wrenched free from May’s grasp, reeled an arm back and punched her hard across the face. May lurched with the force of the punch to the cheek and Jemma gasped at the pain that radiated from her knuckles all the way up her forearm, causing her to blurt out a dignified, “Fuck!”   
  
“May! We have to – Jemma!?” Bobbi skidded to a stop in front of both of them.   
  
Jemma set her jaw. She pulled a sidearm from her hip before they could react and aimed it at them. “Get out of my way!” she ordered.   
  
“Jemma-,” Bobbi tried.   
  
“Shut up! Get out of the way!” Jemma demanded again, this time cocking the hammer of the gun back after flipping the safety off.   
  
Bobbi put her hands up and stepped to the side close to May. The two exchanged a glance, silently plotting to get the gun off Jemma to talk her down. Jemma was prepared through. May lunged for her and Jemma sidestepped the dive and pushed with all her might, which sent May sailing through the purple portal. Bobbi caught her arm and started to leap through the portal. Jemma swung the butt of the gun and caught Bobbi’s knuckles with it, causing her grip to release just as she was sailing through the portal. Jemma launched herself backwards as the portal closed to avoid being inadvertently pulled in.   
  
\--   
  
“Something’s coming through!” Jack shouted just before two bodies tumbled through the portal; May and Bobbi. Both were coughing and groaning in pain.   
  
Fitz rushed for them as the portal closed. “What happened??” He pulled Bobbi up by the biceps.   
  
“Jemma-,”   
  
“Did she make it through?!” Fitz asked.   
  
“She threw us into the…” May paused. She vaulted to her feet, aimed her gun but wasn’t sure who to aim it at. “Soldiers, stand down!” She ordered the guards who were coming in after the Alisha clones. “That’s an order!”   
  
Everyone froze in their spots. Bobbi was the first to come to her senses. She turned to May. “We need pull back and evacuate.” She said. Skye was right. The mission wasn’t for all of them to die. The mission was to protect as many of them as possible.   
  
May set her jaw tight. She nodded and holstered her gun. She nodded to the group. “Get them and the rest of the med ward out of here, now.” She ordered. Turning to the other soldiers, she went on. “With me, now,” May was off and running after that, issuing orders through her com links to pull the soldiers out of the zone as quickly as possible with helivacs.   
  
“Bobbi,” Fitz said.   
  
“You heard her. We’ve got a job. Gather yourselves, let’s get to the hanger.” Bobbi snapped into action. She turned to Alisha. “Can you get to the med wing and get them ready?” she asked.   
  
The clones nodded and all but the original Alisha raced off. The rest of them followed Bobbi as she took the lead.   
  
\--   
  
Skye dropped to her knees, legs too weak to continue holding her as they’d been shaking under her for the last five minutes. Her hand was stretched across her ribs to hold herself together. The other was outstretched as she tried to force the frequencies of the beacon to destruction. Every attempt to deconstruct the beacon down to its individual atoms sent stabs of sharp shards of pain through her brain. Dribbles of blood had started trickling, one down from her left nostril and one from each of her ears. Dizziness swept over her in waves and she threw up at least once. It’s not done yet, Skye told herself. She gritted her teeth tightly. Don’t you dare stop.   
  
She took a deep breath, as ragged as it was, and let go of her side. She stretched both of her hands out, swaying in her spot from another dizzy spell, and forced the vibrations outward. The ground, the walls, everything around her shook in protest as she worked on the beacon. She lasted a few minutes because she lurched forward, her brain swelling in her skull, crushing to her temples, coughing up blood, on all fours, gasping for shallow breaths.   
  
“Skye!”   
  
Skye’s eyes widened. Had she caused brain damage? That had to be a hallucination. She turned toward the sound of Jemma’s voice, dragging herself weakly to her feet.   
  
“Skye!” Jemma raced to get to Skye. She could see Skye’s limbs shaking and wobbling, could see the blood, the grime, the sweat. Skye wavered on her feet.   
  
“No…” Skye exhaled on a ragged breath. Her knees buckled and Jemma dove to catch her. They landed on their knees, Skye’s nearly dead weight pitched forward against Jemma.   
  
“I’ve got you. It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Jemma promised. Her finger dug into Skye’s back as she held onto her, kissed the side of her head. “I’m here. I’m here. It’s okay.” She promised.   
  
“No…” The tears came quickly for Skye even as she clung tightly to Jemma. “No, no, not you…you’re not supposed…I can’t-“   
  
“Shhh, shhh,” Jemma leaned back. She gently wiped under Skye’s nose with her sleeve, brushed her hair back, cradled her cheek. “It’s okay,” She tried again.   
  
“You’re not supposed to be-,”   
  
“I am supposed to be exactly here,” Jemma cut her off and kissed her quickly. “There is no me without you. We do this together or not at all. I love you.”   
  
Skye’s eyes shook with welled tears as Jemma leaned their foreheads together. “I c-can’t…” she couldn’t be responsible for Jemma’s death too. She couldn’t. It was too much.   
  
“I am never going to leave you,” Jemma kissed her cheek and pulled her in; let Skye’s chin rest against her shoulder. “We can do this. We have to do this. It gives them a fighting chance. We can. Together.”   
  
Skye sniffled, closed her eyes tight and leaned the side of her head against Jemma’s. “I love you,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. She couldn’t change Jemma’s mind. She didn’t want to be alone, it was true, but she couldn’t make Jemma leave. “I’m sorry…” she whispered.   
  
“I’m not,” Jemma promised and kissed the side of her head. She held Skye up to keep her on her knees, kept her arms wrapped around Skye’s torso and held up her weight for her. “We do not end here,” she promised. “I’ll find you, wherever we end up. I will never lose you again.”   
  
“I love you,” Skye lifted her hands, arms stretched out over Jemma’s shoulders, hands shaking uncontrollably. I never deserved you. Never. She couldn’t, even now, fathom how Jemma Simmons could have ever loved her so unconditionally. The pain radiated through her as she forced the vibrations to work again. Jemma clenched tightly to her as Skye screamed with the pain.   
  
Jemma buried her face into Skye’s neck and shoulder, breathed in her scent one last time, buried her hand in Skye’s hair, kissed at the flesh of her neck and shoulder, braced for the last breath to claim them. When Skye knew she’d accomplished the task and the chain reaction began, her gauntlet clad arms wound tightly around Jemma, clinging to her, burying her sense in everything she could about Jemma.   
  
“Dante,” The word came out, blurted from Jemma’s lips to Skye’s ear.   
  
“What?” Skye replied automatically.   
  
“Love brought us to one death.” Jemma’s voice against her ear was the last vibration Skye felt before everything ceased in a single bright flash. 


	15. Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This idea has been in my head so long I'm surprised I managed to get to this point. I'm using the Marvel characters in this next chapter strictly as my own figures in the cosmic sandbox so if you know anything about them, cool, they're no canon per se. If you don't,  I'll leave it at, they were all picked because of their uber abilities of manipulation. There is no narrative for this short chap only dialogue so each character gets their own style: 
> 
> Eternity  
>  _Infinity_  
>  _ **Death**_  
>  **Galactus**  
>  Living Tribunal 
> 
> Carry on!!  
> _____

“Judgement must be passed.”

_“Is that not the reason for our assembly?”_

“Of course.”

**“It is already done. There is no need to continue this charade.”**

_“Am I to understand then, Galactus, that you wish to vote against reward for services rendered?”_

**“Affirmitive.”**

_“Does no one among us wish to speak for the fallen?”_

“I do.”

_“Please proceed, Eternity.”_

“Stars have been aligned for lesser beings in lesser universes than those before us. Greater detriment would come from failing to reward the righteous on a path toward enlightenment.”

**_“These mongrels know only destruction and chaos. This was bred into them. We owe them nothing but the swath of a brush to paint them from existence. Leave them to their self annihilation. The verses will only benefit from their downfall.”_ **

“I am in agreement with Death.”

“Am I to understand that Death has presented you a convincing enough argument that you are compelled to rally against our lesser visitors, Eternity?”

“No.”

**“But you’ve stated-,”**

“I am in agreement that these beings are mongrels, born of a chaos and design not of their choosing. It would be wrong to hold such destiny against them in light of the actions that brought them hear so that we may pass judgement once all merits and pitfalls have been weighed and measured.”

**_“You waste time.”_ **

“I explore all aspects of the verse before casting doubt upon lesser beings.”

**_“They destroy lands on their own planet for self-gain.”_ **

_“Self-gain implies these beings stood to benefit from the outcome of their actions, rather than the greater benefit of their own kind which they would not survive to witness.”_

**_“Do you deny they destroy?”_ **

_“No. I submit that they do so in order to serve and protect even those that persecuted them in life.”_

“Curious how they come entwined.”

“I believe they were partners.”

_“If their memories are an accurate reflection, I suspect you are correct.”_

**_“Nothing has convinced me of their worth.”_ **

**“Perhaps we should wake them. It would provide us greater insight.”**

**_“Whatever’s left of their infantile ‘intelligence’ would dissolve if you tried.”_ **

_“Let us review their histories once more. Afterward, we shall reconvene for final judgement.”_

**_ “Aye.” _ **

 


	16. Epilogue

  
Skye bolted upright in bed, gasping for air. Her entire body was covered in a thick, cold sheen of sweat; it was soaked into the armpits, chest and spine of her sweatshirt. Stray strands of hair that had fallen from the sloppy sleep bun it had been tied up in were soaked and matted to her face and cheeks. Wide, wild eyes darted around the room at a feverish pace as her eye sight struggled to adjust to the dark. Dim light glowed from the screen of her laptop on the night stand and that’s when she realized she was in her room. She was in her and Jemma’s room. Her chest heaved heavily as she tried to catch her breath. Her lungs and throat felt like they were on fire, stinging with pain on every inhale and exhale. How did she get here?   
  
Skye scrambled to turn the lamp on the nightstand on. She tumbled from the bed and fought to free herself from the covers. Turning a circle or two, she studied her surrounding with her mouth agape. Was this some kind of afterlife recreation? Was this what they were giving her consciousness for the price she’d paid? Skye rushed to the restroom as her stomach rolled over. She dropped to her knees in front of the toilet and retched. When she finished, she flushed the toilet and turned the light on, went to wash her face. Patting her face dry with a towel, Skye looked up into the mirror and froze. She looked…healthy? Her cheeks were no longer gaunt. Telltale scars she’d earned in the zone were gone.   
  
“…What?” she dropped the towel and quickly tugged the bottom of her sweatshirt up. All but one of the scars she earned in the zone were gone. The only one that remained was the one she’d earned escaping the zone, a long, shallow slash along her side that had scarred over. Skye’s fingers traced it. And then it struck her. “Jemma.”   
  
Skye dropped her sweatshirt and raced out of her room into the lighted hallway. Squinting, she spun in the direction of Jemma’s old room and raced for the end of the hall. Before she reached it, Jemma came barreling around the corner. “Skye!” She shouted, moving even faster.   
  
The two of them collided together, mouth to mouth, hip to hip, torso to torso. Arms wound around each other. Hands buried into hair, dug into the material of shirts at their backs. They kissed well past the point of needing oxygen, broke long enough to suck down small gasp of hair, touched and held tight at every part of the other.   
  
“Is this real?” Jemma gasped in the small gaps between them as they attempted to breathe. “Is this really real?” she sniffled, unable to stop the tears.   
  
Skye leaned back. She pulled up her sweatshirt to show Jemma the scar. “It happened,” she breathes as Jemma touched the scar tissue.   
  
“H-How…?” Jemma’s voice shook.   
  
“I don’t know,” Skye pulled her in for another long kiss.   
  
“Well,” May’s voice interrupted them as she cleared her throat. She had been heading back toward her room from her early morning exercise. “This is new,” she pointed a finger between them as she lifted the end of the towel around her neck up to wipe her face.   
  
Skye and Jemma’s brows both furrowed. How long had they gone back? They exchanged a glanced as May passed them and headed down the hall. “May, what’s the date?”   
  
May paused, gave them a stranger look then looked down at her watch and rattled off the date and time as Jemma and Skye gaped at her. “Why?” May asked.   
  
“What year?” Jemma asked.   
  
May’s face twisted into a mixture of confusion and concern. She answered and the color drained from both Skye and Jemma’s faces as they stared at her. “What’s going on?” May asked.   
  
“Five years…” Jemma murmured.   
  
“Coulson,” Skye reluctantly let go of Jemma and was off racing again. Jemma spared a glance at May, who was entirely confused by their reactions and then took off running right after Skye. May had no idea what had gotten into them but clearly they were disheveled and disoriented.   
  
Skye skidded to a stop just inside the threshold of Coulson’s office and stared, wide eyes at the man standing behind his desk, just about to take his seat and get to work. He tilted his head slightly. “Skye,” He said just as Jemma tried to stop herself and knocked into Skye’s back.   
  
Skye’s welled eyes spilled over with tears. She rushed around the desk and flung her arms around his shoulders, going up on her tip toes to hold on as tightly as possible. “You’re alive,” she gasped into his neck and shoulder. “You’re alive.” She repeated a few times.   
  
Coulson froze. He moved his arms around Skye to hug her since she was clearly upset but her words concerned him for obvious reasons. Past her shoulder, he could see Jemma standing there, her hand on her mouth and tears in her eyes and in the doorway behind Jemma stood May, looking about as confused as Coulson felt. “Of course I am,” He said. “I’m here.” He’d never said to Skye that she was the closest that he had to a daughter, but he knew she was aware of it just as he was aware of her father figure perceptions of him. They’d been through a lot together. The whole team had, but the two of them had a very particular bond and he didn’t like to see her this worked up.   
  
Skye pulled back and sniffled, wiped at her cheeks. She started to apologize but her voice caught in her throat and Coulson shook his head. “Why don’t you both come sit down and tell us what happened?” He guided Skye one of the seats in front of his desk as May moved to help Jemma into the other. May shut the door to the office and stood next to Coulson’s desk as Coulson leaned to sit back against the edge of the desk. “Take it slow,” He looked between them. “Whatever it is, we’ll take care of it.”   
  
Skye shifted in her seat. She looked over at Jemma. “How is this possible?” she asked.   
  
Jemma shook her head and shrugged up her shoulders. “I don’t know…” she replied.   
  
Skye turned to Coulson. “I need your computer now. I need to write down everything before I forget.” She said.   
  
Coulson and May exchanged a glance. Skye jumped out of her seat and moved to Coulson’s desk chair. She pulled up the computer and started typing. As she started typing, Skye and Jemma started talking. They told them everything they remember – every single detail no matter how difficult it was to get it out. They showed them Skye’s mysterious scar. Skye looked up personal info on Jack and Parker to prove they were real people. She found Jasmine’s father since Jasmine was only a year old at this point. She scoured for the beginnings of the SINS documents. For hours they went over this information, letting no one interrupt them, until May and Coulson were convinced that this wasn’t some kind of mental snap for both of them or some kind of hallucinatory joint nightmare. They immediately started working on a plan for how they would counteract the events of their first time line this go around. Eventually, Skye and Jemma’s stomachs growled angrily and Coulson dismissed them to for the rest of the day with a stack of assignments to work on in their free time, top priority.   
  
\--   
  
“Where are we going?” Skye snuggled into Jemma’s embrace in bed on the bus. They were tucked into a bunk in their pajamas, thoroughly worn out from the entire day of mental overload. Skye was in a bit of a daze when Jemma had directed her to gather her things for a week of travel and to get on the bus, so she hadn’t asked any questions. All she wanted was to lie there with her ear pressed to Jemma’s chest, listening to her heartbeat while they held onto each other.   
  
Jemma kissed her forehead and stroked her fingers through Skye’s hair. “I want a week with you alone,” She confessed.   
  
Skye leaned back. “Jem, we don’t have time, we-,”   
  
Jemma silenced Skye with a long, slow kiss that reached past their perfectly melded lips and straight to Skye’s soul, she was sure. It completely derailed Skye’s thought process and she didn’t mind at all. She reached up to cradle Jemma’s cheek with her hand and sought out the solace that came with the connection between them. When she needed air, Jemma broke the kiss but pressed their foreheads together. Her fingers came to rest along the back of Skye’s hand and wrist that was holding onto her cheek.   
  
“We have time, now,” Jemma said. “I won’t lose you this time. I won’t lose you ever again.” She said.   
  
“Nothing that happened between us before happened this time,” Skye said.   
  
“It still happened,” Jemma kissed the crooked of her nose. “I remember it. You remember it. We get a chance to fix things before they go wrong,” she stroked Skye’s cheek. “But first, I want time alone with you. We’ve earned it.”   
  
Skye nuzzled closer. They wound around each other. There were no sharp edges of bone jutting out as Skye wasted away. There was no deep seeded pain in her belly as she starved to death slowly day by day, barely squeaking by with enough calories. Skye was safe and healthy. Jemma intended to keep it that way.   
  
“I love you,” Skye told her.   
  
“I love you more,” Jemma murmured back and kissed the top of her head again as they settled, wound tightly together, the covers wrapped around them.   
  
“Not a chance,” Skye teased.   
  
“We’re okay,” Jemma reminded her, just to be sure she knew.   
  
Skye was quiet for a moment. “We’ve got so much to do.”   
  
“We have enough time to do it.” Jemma assured.   
  
“Together?” Skye asked as she closed her eyes.   
  
“Together or not at all,” Jemma replied as she set her head down on the pillow and closed her own eyes.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!!! <3


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